THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Dr.  Ellen  Seiter 


AH  MOY 

THE  STORY  OF  A  CHINESE  GIRL 


Ah  Moy. 


AH    MOY 

THE  STORY  OF  A  CHINESE  GIRL 

BY 

LU    WHEAT 

Illustrated  by  Mary  E.  Curran 


THE  GRAFTON  PRESS 

PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  BOSTON 


Copyright,  1908 
BY  LU  WHEAT 


s 


TO  MR.  WU  TING  FANG 
AND  TO  MR.  HERBERT  GILES, 

PROFESSOR  OF  CHINESE  IN  CAMBRIDGE,  ENGLAND 

THE  AUTHOR  IS  GRATEFUL 
FOR    KINDLY    ASSISTANCE. 


FOREWORD 

The  author  of  this  little  book  does  not  hope  to  convey  to 
the  western  mind  any  very  accurate  idea  of  the  real  china 
man, —  nor  of  the  Eurasian  or  half-breed,  who  comes  upon 
the  stage  wherever  the  white  man  sets  his  foot  or  pitches 
his  tent ;  but  if  the  reader  shall  gather  from  its  pages  even 
a  little  of  the  wisdom  of  the  far  East,  it  will  be  recompense 
for  weary  days  and  long  sea  voyages. 


AH  MOY 

THE  STORY  OF  A  CHINESE  GIRL 


"  The  path  leading  up  the  hill  was  dotted  with  Chinamen. 


AH   MOY 

The  Story  of  a  Chinese  Girl 


fTlHE  province  of  Honan,  in  the  north  of  China,  is 
JL  noted  for  its  great  Tien  Dong  temple  —  a  beautiful 
structure,  situated  in  a  mountain  fastness  which  has  been 
made  sacred  by  the  worship  of  ages.  Hundreds  of  feet 
above  the  fertile  plains  which  stretch  —  rice-laden  and 
flower-laden  —  in  every  direction,  the  noble  structure 
stands,  a  monument  to  the  Buddhism  that  was,  rather  than 
to  that  which  is. 

On  a  pleasant  day  in  the  spring  of  1880,  the  path  lead 
ing  up  the  mountain  side  was  dotted  with  Chinamen,  who 
were  making  a  pilgrimage  to  the  sacred  edifice.  The 
throng,  which  was  composed  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men,  was  tolerant,  and  anyone  desiring  to  do  so  might  join 
it  without  fear  of  molestation.  Ancestor  worshippers, 
Confucianists  and  Buddhists,  tramped  side  by  side  in 
friendly  conversation,  while  here  and  there  a  foreigner  told 
his  beads,  or  led  his  half-breed  son  in  search  of  the  Holy 
Grail.  To  the  hard-working  coolie  the  trip  was  regarded 
as  the  joy  of  his  life.  He  looked  upon  the  sunshine  and 
the  shade,  and  breathed  the  perfume  of  the  flowers,  with  a 
feeling  that  life  could  never  settle  back  into  the  same 
humdrum  existence  that  it  had  been.  To  the  rich,  whose 
heavy  silk  garments  brushed  close  to  poverty  and  rags,  the 


10  AH  MOT 

infinite  blue  of  the  sky,  the  great  distances  as  they  came 
into  view,  and  the  noble,  old  forest  trees  brought  divine  in 
spiration.  From  many  lips  came  the  mutter  of  prayer,  or 
the  set  phrase :  "  The  dew  is  on  the  lotus."  Although  the 
path  was  long  and  steep,  it  was  not  a  hard  one  to  climb, 
for  the  priests  had  arranged  easy  as  well  as  graceful  wind 
ings  and  had  filled  in  the  nooks  and  corners  with  flowers, 
knowing  full  well  that  he  who  drinks  in  the  beauties  of 
nature  is  impervious  to  fatigue. 

For  ages  uncounted  there  had  been  no  destruction  of 
life  upon  the  mountain,  whether  of  bird  or  of  beast,  of 
insect  or  of  reptile.  This  scrupulous  regard  for  the  rights 
of  animals  had  so  penetrated  the  minds  of  the  priests  that 
nothing  showed  signs  of  fear.  Birds  discharged  their 
battery  of  song,  rainbow-tinted  lizards  darted  from  bush 
to  bush,  and  rabbits  hopped  along  the  path,  scarce  yield 
ing  the  right  of  way  to  their  human  brothers.  Even  the 
wily  serpent  went  lazily  to  his  crevice  in  the  rocks,  under 
the  all-pervading  security  of  the  right  to  life.  To  the 
left  of  the  path,  a  lotus  bed  had  been  hewn  into  the  solid 
rock,  where  frogs  might  "  reverently  repeat  their  poem  " 
and  reptiles  live  out  their  allotted  span. 

Much  etiquette  toward  one  another  was  observed  by  the 
pilgrims,  and  much  pleasant  discourse  was  exchanged,  until 
they  came  within  sound  of  the  chanting  priests,  then  all 
walked  with  downcast  eyes  and  palms  pressed  closely  to 
gether. 

The  buildings,  with  their  eight  hundred  idols,  occupied 
about  seven  acres  of  ground, —  the  vacant  spaces  being 
economically  arranged  with  reference  to  the  food-supply 
of  the  priests.  Gardens  containing  vegetables,  mushroom 
beds,  and  bamboo  sprouts  were  plentiful,  while  thousands 
of  lily  bulbs  grew  luxuriously  or  were  drying,  preparatory 
to  being  stored  for  the  winter. 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  11 

Ranged  in  long  rows  were  idols,  some  with  wide,  glar 
ing  eyes,  to  signify  that  man  by  nature  is  fierce  and 
angry ;  others  expressing  the  calm  repose  of  such  as  have 
entered  upon  the  noble  eight-fold  path. 

As  the  pilgrims  reached  the  grounds,  they  separated  into 
groups,  each  of  which  sought  out  and  paid  reverent  de 
votion  to  their  favorite  saint.  Those  who  were  potters 
bowed  before  a  green  porcelain  god,  while  the  farmers 
gathered  before  a  harvest  queen.  The  literati  stood,  in 
attitudes  signifying  devotion,  before  a  female  deity,  who 
represented  learning;  while  above  all  an  immense  bronze 
Buddha  told  by  the  expression  in  its  face  the  story  of 
calm  repose  that  comes  only  to  such  as  have  overcome  the 
selfish  desires  of  earth.  At  the  right  of  the  path,  almost 
hidden  by  foliage,  was  a  stone  image  of  Hirati,*  an  idol 
with  the  face  of  a  comely  woman.  Against  her  breast 
she  held  a  naked  babe,  and  in  her  left  hand  was  a  full 
blown  lily. 

Before  this  idol  the  smoke  of  incense  wafted  lazily; 
while  a  Chinaman  breathed  out  to  the  powers  above  him 
the  burden  of  a  prayer  —  a  prayer  beseeching  the  Goddess 
on  behalf  of  a  child  as  yet  unborn;  beseeching  Her  to 
use  Her  good  offices  so  that,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  he 
might  have  a  son.  Daughters  he  had,  but  they  were  in 
no  wise  to  be  considered  as  representatives  of  his  ancient 
line, —  since  they  were  destined  by  providence  to  be  keep 
ers  of  other  men's  homes  and  the  mothers  of  other  men's 

*  This  figure,  so  like  the  Blessed  Mother  in  our  own  religious  art 
is  pre-Christian  by  many  centuries.  It  is  symbolic  of  evolution, 
carried  further  than  the  boldest  scientist  of  the  west  would  dare 
to  go.  It  tells  us  that,  for  sins  committed  in  a  previous  incarna 
tion,  Hirati  was  born  a  demon,  with  such  wicked  impulses  that  she 
devoured  her  own  offspring;  but  that,  under  the  beneficent  teaching 
of  the  gentle  Buddha,  all  her  sins  were  transmuted  into  goodness, 
after  which  she  was  given  power  over  the  sex  of  the  unborn. 
Hence  there  is  an  ever-increasing  throng  of  young  people  before  her, 
asking  that  they  may  be  blessed  with  sons. 


12  AH  MOT 

children.  Twice  in  the  years  gone  by  had  he  laid  his 
choicest  incense  before  Hirati  and  beat  his  breasts  in 
prayer,  but  when  the  child  came  it  was  only  a  girl,  and  he 
was  even  now  considering  the  ways  and  means  by  which 
a  weak  spot  in  the  family  line  might  be  bridged  over. 
Full  well  he  knew  that  the  civil  code  of  China  made  pro 
vision  for  such  contingencies,  but  he  regarded  all  its  reme 
dies  as  trenching  on  failure;  therefore  he  had  determined 
to  give  the  gods  another  chance'  to  answer  his  prayer  by 
sending  him  a  son. 

So  wrapped  was  he  in  his  thoughts  that  he  lingered  long 
before  the  idol,  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  others  were  wait 
ing  to  offer  their  devotions.  But,  suddenly,  at  the  sound 
of  approaching  footsteps,  he  laid  one  more  wafer  upon  the 
burner  and  passed,  with  solemn  dignity,  into  a  shaded  path. 
He  had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  he  heard  a  familiar  voice 
calling  him : 

"  Whither  away,  most  honored  brother?  the  day  and 
the  hour  are  propitious.  Shall  we  not  sip  together?  I 
would  have  converse  with  thee;  there  are  many  things  that 
I  would  say." 

Ching  Fo  turned  and,  seeing  an  old  friend,  bowed  very 
low  and  said: — 

"  Some  spirit  hath  brought  us  together,  Sing  Lee ;  I 
saw  thee  in  my  sleep  last  night.  Hath  the  gods  been  good 
to  thee,  and  are  thy  honorable  parents  well?  " 

"  Well ;  and  able  to  climb  the  path  and  pay  their  devo 
tions  to  their  patron  saint,"  replied  Sing  Lee. 

"  Thou  art  in  good  hap  to  have  them  with  thee  to  this 
ripe  old  age.  Thou  art  a  favorite  of  the  gods,  Sing  Lee, 
for  thou  hast  both  parents  and  sons, —  parents  to  lean 
upon  thee  in  their  old  age,  and  sons  to  continue  the  family 
worship  when  thou  art  gone." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  the  old  man  in  the  sky  has  been  good  to 


A  CHINESE  GIBI.  13 

me  and  he  will  also  be  good  to  thee.  The  astrologers  pre 
dict  a  bountiful  harvest  this  year,  and  the  birth  of  many 
male  children.  Thy  day  will  come!  The  sky  is  full  of 
promise.  Let  us  have  tea  and  sweets,  and  forget  the  anx 
iety  of  the  hour.  Here  is  a  good  young  priest  who  will 
serve  us." 

So  saying,  the  two  men  stepped  inside  the  temple  and 
sat  down  before  a  lacquered  table.  The  young  priest  re 
sponded  to  Sing  Lee's  two  raised  fingers  with  two  cups  of 
tea  and  two  plates  of  preserved  ginger.  In  front  of 
Ching  Fo  he  also  placed  that  great  symbol  of  fecundity 
and  strength,  a  piece  of  dried  fish,  ceremoniously  wrapped 
in  many  folds  of  red  paper.  This  delicate  reminder  that 
the  priest  held  in  remembrance  his  desire  for  a  son  made 
Ching  Fo's  heart  leap  with  joy.  He  slipped  the  tiny 
package  into  his  sleeve  with  the  reverent  air  of  a  man  who 
touches  sacred  things;  then  for  some  moments  he  cast  his 
eye  downward,  deep  in  thought.  After  the  silence,  he 
turned  to  Sing  Lee  and  they  entered  into  such  conversa 
tion  as  men  engage  in  who  live  and  move  in  the  same  so 
cial  grade.  Its  substance  was  gossip,  politics,  and  poetry 
with  here  and  there  the  spice  of  wit ;  but  there  was  a  sub 
ject,  dear  to  the  heart  of  both  men,  which  they  did  not 
mention.  This  was  the  betrothal  of  one  of  Sing  Lee's 
sons  to  a  daughter  of  Ching  Fo.  It  had  long  been  a 
foregone  conclusion  that  the  families  should  intermarry ; 
but,  as  so  far,  Ching  Fo's  wife  had  produced  only  fe 
males,  Sing  Lee  feared  lest  the  plague  of  girls  should  con 
tinue.  He  had  learned  from  close  observation  that  women 
who  bear  no  sons  are  liable  to  transmit  this  misfortune  to 
the  second  generation;  and  he  dared  not  think  what  it 
would  mean  to  his  own  family  should  there  come  into  it  an 
element  to  endanger  the  succession.  Under  these  circum 
stances,  he  felt  reluctant  about  discussing  so  serious  a  mat- 


14  AH  Mor 

ter  as  the  betrothal  until  he  saw  a  little  further  into  his 
friend's  prospects ;  so  the  two  sipped  their  tea  and  ate  their 
ginger,  leaving  this  most  important  topic  for  some  other 
time.  Ching  Fo  felt  the  slight  of  his  friend  and  arose 
to  go,  bidding  him  a  more  or  less  restrained  good-by.  But 
he  had  taken  only  a  few  steps  when  Sing  Lee  called  him, 
and,  with  much  warmth,  said: 

"  May  the  gods  bring  it  to  pass  as  thou  desirest ! " 
"  I  thank  thee,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  for  this  expression 
of  sympathy,  and  I  earnestly  hope  that  the  day  is  near 
when  I  shall  be  blessed  with  a  son;  for  I  know  full  well 
that  nothing  is  so  unfilial  as  to  die  and  leave  no  posterity.* 
My  pretty  wife  is  the  most  unhappy  of  women  because  she, 
as  yet,  has  borne  me  only  daughters.  But  now  the  sign 
of  the  zodiac  is  in  Taurus,  and  I  hope,  before  another 
moon,  my  luck  will  have  changed.  Good-by,  honored 
brother.  Ask  the  genii  of  thine  own  family  to  intercede 
for  me." 

Thus  saying,  Ching  Fo  turned  into  a  path  that  led  di 
rectly  down  the  hill  to  a  bungalow  of  more  than  ordinary 
pretentiousness.  A  beautiful  arch  of  honor  stood  across 
the  way,  the  stone  pavement,  beneath  which  was  worn  into 
hollows  by  the  footsteps  of  generations  long  since  dead. 
Opposite  the  arch,  carved  in  the  solid  rock  of  the  moun 
tain  side,  were  sculptured  divinities,  presiding  over  a  basin 
which  was  used  for  the  ceremonious  washing  of  hands. 
Over  a  high  stone  wall  rose  the  heavily  timbered  roof  of 
a  house,  which  was  guarded  by  a  wooden  gate,  fastened  so 
securely  with  iron  bars  that  not  even  Ching  Fo  could  enter 
until  his  poundings  on  the  gong  had  attracted  the  atten 
tion  of  some  one  within.  Once,  twice,  thrice,  the  sound 
echoed  against  the  stone  divinities  before  a  servant  un 
barred  and,  with  a  low  salaam,  admitted  the  master. 

*  Daughters  are  not  counted  as  posterity  in  China. 


The  Arch  of  Honor 


16  AH  MOY 

Gray  with  the  grayness  of  ancient  things,  and  weather- 
beaten  by  the  storms  of  a  thousand  years,  was  this  home  so 
hidden  in  a  mountain  nook.  On  the  south  side  lay  a  little 
ground,  where  nested  birds  and  bees  and  spiders, —  for  no 
attempt  at  formal  gardening  had  ever  desecrated  the 
place.  Everything  indicated  that  the  owner  was  a  man 
upon  whom  the  gods  had  bestowed  a  goodly  share  of  the 
things  that  perish.  Acres  and  acres  of  waving  rice-fields 
came  into  view,  as  the  little  elevation  on  which  the  house 
stood  was  reached  and  terraces  of  vegetables  grew  far  up 
the  steep  hillsides.  Nothing,  however,  spoke  of  modern 
conveniences.  The  doors  groaned  on  their  wooden  hings ; 
insects  crept  through  the  open  space  between  the  eaves  and 
the  walls  and  the  Chinese  rat,  more  famous  and  more  trou 
blesome  than  any  other  rat,  lived  and  squeaked  between  the 
ceiling  and  the  roof.  Even  snakes  occasionally  thrust 
their  forked  tongues  through  the  holes  in  the  wall.  Other 
things,  besides  rats  and  snakes,  had  a  pre-emption  claim 
upon  certain  portions  of  the  house, —  creeping  things  of 
uncanny  look;  but  Ching  Fo  regarded  them  all  as  part 
and  parcel  of  the  place,  for  the  house  was  very  old. 
Ching  Fo  said  that  he  had  lived  in  it  a  thousand  years,  by 
which  he  meant  that  the  family  shrine,  so  stiff  and  fly- 
specked,  had  been  maintained  there  a  thousand  years,  and 
he  reckoned  his  own  age,  not  as  an  individual,  but  as  the 
representative  of  a  family  which  must  be  considered  in  its 
entirety,  rather  than  in  separate  parts.  To  honor  this 
long  line  of  ancestors,  and  to  see  to  it  that  a  successor  was 
duly  provided,  was  Ching  Fo's  mission  in  life,  and  subjects 
remote  from  this  great  one  did  not  enter  very  fully  into 
his  calculations. 

He  believed  in  ghosts,  for  there  were  many  shadowy 
resurrections  at  his  own  hearth-stone, —  resurrections  of 
ancestors,  who  were  ever  counseling  him  to  honor  their 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  17 

memory  and  observe  their  customs.  For  ages  before  him, 
his  forefathers  had  practiced  the  rigid  virtue  that  makes 
possible  a  clear  vision  of  spiritual  things ;  hence,  no  secret 
passion  had  scattered  uncleanness  through  his  body  or 
filled  his  brain  with  the  disease  of  sensuality.  Economy 
and  industry  had  brought  to  him  the  comforts  that  go  to 
make  life  pleasant  in  a  Chinese  home,  and  it  was  reckoned 
in  the  neighborhood  that  he  was  a  fortunate  man.  The 
one  dark  cloud  that  hung  across  his  pathway,  and  left 
its  shadow  over  all  his  days,  was,  that,  despite  the  costly 
incense  burned  before  the  goddess  Hirati,  and  despite  the 
soft,  sweet  prayers  of  his  wife,  she  had  brought  him  only 
daughters. 

As  Ching  Fo  entered  the  front  door  where  the  little  lamp 
was  burning  in  honor  of  his  ancestors,  he  felt  it  beating  in 
upon  him  that  he  was  under  the  displeasure  of  some  evil 
spirit.  He  lighted  an  incense  stick,  carefully  leaving  the 
ashes  of  preceding  ones  piled  high  in  the  bowl,  removed  the 
shoes  from  his  white  stockinged  feet,  and  took  from  the 
shelf  a  copy  of  the  Chinese  Family  Code.  Nervously  he 
turned  to  the  page  which  provides  for  the  maintenance  of 
family  worship  in  case  no  sons  are  born,  then  closed  the 
book  and  pondered  with  dejected  brow. 

"  Slave  girls,  if  they  bear  male  children,  may  be  the  in 
struments  with  which  to  bridge  over  a  weak  spot  in  the 
family  line.  Nephews  may  be  adopted,  or  daughters  be 
trothed  to  the  sons  of  friends  and  the  affianced  may  be 
adopted,"  he  quoted. 

"  But  all  these,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  are  courts  of 
last  resort,  to  which  we  go  only  when  all  else  fails.  The 
most  feasible  way  in  case  I  have  another  daughter,  will  be 
to  take  a  second  wife.  Peace  may  be  kept  in  the  family 
—  or  it  may  not  —  even  if  not,  'twere  better  than  to  die 
and  leave  no  posterity." 


18  AH  MOY 

As  he  soliloquized  over  the  case,  he  thought  of  the  as 
trologer,  Ah  Sin,  who  lived  in  a  hut  only  a  mile  away, 
and  decided  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Some  definite  informa 
tion  might  be  gotten  there,  and  no  stone  should  be  left 
unturned  in  such  a  serious  matter.  In  a  silent  and  pre 
occupied  manner  he  passed  out  through  the  gate  and  into 
the  open  road,  thence  across  a  strip  of  stony  ground  and 
through  a  gap  in  the  cliff,  from  which  he  emerged  upon  a 
vast  level  of  rice-fields,  where  green  waves  followed  each 
other  all  day,  like  the  tides  of  an  inland  sea.  The  sight 
was  so  beautiful  that  it  intoxicated  him,  and  in  a  sort  of 
enchantment  he  heard,  in  imagination,  the  cry  of  a  new 
born  babe.  Startled  and  thrilled  by  the  sound,  he  has 
tened  forward  to  the  astrologer. 

"  What  mystery  hangs  over  me  to-day,"  he  said.  "  I 
come  to  consult  thee  concerning  an  heir  to  the  shrine  of  my 
fathers,  and,  lo,  I  hear  a  voice  like  the  wail  of  an  infant 
wafted  across  the  fields.  Tell  me,  good  prophet,  are  the 
gods  angry,  or  are  they  propitious?  Canst  thou  answer, 
wise  man?  Two  daughters  have  I,  but,  alas,  no  son. 
Canst  tell  me  what  the  signs  are?  " 

The  astrologer  turned  over  his  charts  and  made  calcu 
lations  among  the  stars  before  he  answered  and  then  very 
raeasuredly  said: 

"  The  crab  is  not  in  conjunction  with  the  sun,  but  the 
vernal  equinox  is  at  hand,  and  Aries  is  a  masculine  sign. 
May  the  lucky  stars  auspiciously  unite ! " 

This  was  somewhat  less  than  Ching  Fo  had  hoped,  but 
he  hastened  homeward  with  the  feeling  still  strong  in  his 
heart  that  good  news  awaited  him  there.  As  he  retraced 
his  steps  over  the  mountain  path,  the  mystic  sound  still 
thrilled  him  and  filled  him  with  the  hope  that  he  had  heard 
a  voice  —  and  that  it  was  the  voice  of  a  son. 

But  his  expectations  were  blighted  when  a  servant  met 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  19 

him  at  the  door,  and,  bowing  very  low,  informed  him  that 
a  new  born  female  child  awaited  his  acknowledgment. 
Dark  shadows  flung  themselves  into  his  coal  black  eyes 
as,  for  a  moment,  he  was  staggered  by  the  blow. 

"  Can  it  be,"  he  said  bitterly,  "  that  some  angry  god  is 
turning  all  my  sons  to  girls?  Oh,  gentle  goddess,  to  whom 
I  have  so  often  burned  my  choicest  incense,  where  art  thou? 
and  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  " 

A  wail  from  the  infant  brought  him  to  the  conscious 
ness  that  he  must  decide  whether  he  should  accept  this  lat 
est  born  daughter,  or  whether  he  should  command  the 
servants  to  expose  her.  Being  a  good  Buddhist,  he  had  al 
ways  observed  the  rule  of  the  brotherhood,  forbidding  the 
destruction  of  life,  except  under  circumstances  most  im 
perative  ;  so  he  decided  that  this  girl  must  be  provided  for. 
He  reasoned,  logically,  that  the  power  given  to  fathers 
by  the  Romans,  by  the  Gauls,  and  by  his  own  countrymen, 
over  the  lives  of  female  children  came  into  direct  conflict 
with  the  laws  of  Buddha,  and  he  felt  bound  by  the  latter. 

"  There  is  no  help  for  it,"  he  said  aloud,  "  I  must 
accept  this  third  female  child." 

Thus  deciding,  he  put  his  feet  into  a  pair  of  embroid 
ered  shoes,  tossed  back  the  long  queue  which  had  been 
coiled  around  his  head,  and  went  to  the  bedside  of  his  wife. 
As  he  beheld  the  infant,  the  cold  legal  aspect  of  the  case 
passed  out  of  his  mind  and  a  look  of  inexpressible  tender 
ness  crept  over  his  face.  For  a  moment  he  bent  his  eye 
upon  the  babe,  then,  taking  her  almost  reverently  into  his 
arms,  he  raised  her  three  times  towards  the  ceiling,  thus  ad 
mitting  that  she  was  bone  of  his  bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh. 
When  he  had  pressed  her  to  his  bosom  for  one  brief  mo 
ment,  he  handed  her  to  a  nurse  and  retired.  No  word  was 
spoken  by  either  husband  or  wife,  but  a  tear  bedewed  the 
mother's  eye  as  she  turned  her  face  to  the  wall. 


20  AH  MOY 

The  formal  acknowledgment  of  the  child  having  taken 
place,  it  was  dressed  and  laid  beside  its  mother,  who  feebly 
raised  her  arms  to  receive  the  little  stranger,  although  ut 
tering  a  moan  at  the  thought  of  having  again  given  birth 
to  a  female  child.  Sadly  she  remembered  the  incense  she 
had  burned  and  the  prayers  she  had  said ;  sadly  she  sighed 
for  a  son  to  make  her  seem  more  beautiful  in  the  sight  of 
her  husband. 


unconscious  cause  of  all  this  trouble  stretched  her 
A  toes,  and  blinked  her  eyes,  and  grew,  just  like  any 
other  well-cared-for  baby.  When  she  was  a  month  old,  a 
fine  party  was  given  in  her  honor.  Relatives  came  from 
far  and  near,  bringing  fruit  and  flowers.  One  of  her 
cousins  brought  a  large  durion  with  such  a  strong  odor 
that  it  made  her  sneeze,  at  which  her  mother  put  a  wadded 


blouse  over  her,  for  fear  she  was  taking  cold.  At  noon 
they  shaved  her  head,  leaving  only  a  little  tuft  of  hair  on 
the  right  side,  to  show  that  she  was  not  betrothed,  and 
they  named  her  Ah  Moy,  which  being  interpreted,  means 
"  a  female  child."  To  this  name,  however,  they  prefixed 
the  number  three  that  she  might  be  distinguished  from  her 
two  sisters,  whose  names  were  also  Ah  Moy.  Soon  after 
she  was  named,  a  priest  came  on  pony-back  adown  the  hill 
and  brought  her  a  charm,  enclosed  in  many  folds  of  red 
paper.  This  the  little  mother  thought  to  be  a  great  honor, 

21 


22  AH  MOY 

for  it  was  seldom  that  a  priest  took  the  trouble  to  bless  a 
girl  baby. 

"  We  will  hang  the  precious  token  over  the  bed,  to  keep 
evil-spirits  away,"  said  Ching  Fo,  and  with  hammer  and 
nail  he  fastened  the  good  luck  symbol  over  the  cradle  where 
slept  his  third  daughter,  in  blissful  unconsciousness  of 
spirits  either  good  or  bad. 

Poor  little  Ah  Moy!  It  was  travesty  to  give  her  the 
symbol,  for  it  represented  the  great  Chinese  monad,  called 
Ying  and  Yang,  used  far  back  in  the  darkness  of  forgot 
ten  time  to  represent  the  equality  of  the  sexes.  But  the 
priests  had  forgotten  —  and  during  the  thousand  years 
that  Ching  Fo  had  lived  in  the  bungalow,  no  inquiry  had 
been  made  as  to  its  significance.* 

For  the  next  two  months  the  third  daughter  lay  very 
quietly  in  her  bamboo  cradle.  Sometimes  her  mother  called 
her  "  the  blessed  one,"  because  she  was  so  very  good,  but 
Ching  Fo  objected  to  this,  for  he  thought  it  an  innovation 
on  the  usages  of  their  ancestors,  who  never  gave  names  to 
their  female  children.  "  It  is  not  proper,"  he  said,  "  that 
we  should  break  away  from  the  customs  of  our  fore 
fathers." 

When  her  clothes  were  removed,  her  feet  sometimes  flew 
up  and  she  saw  her  pretty  little  toes,  but  she  kept  the  calm 
exterior  of  a  Chinese  baby  until  one  day  when  a  cockroach 
came  tramping  over  her  bed.  Then  she  laughed,  f  This 

*  The  adoption  by  the  Northern  Pacific  R.  R.  Company  of  the 
Ying  and  Yang  as  a  trademark  has  made  us  familiar  with  one 
of  the  great  symbols  of  the  Far  East.  It  is  found  on  gravestones, 
dating  back  thousands  of  years  before  Christ,  and  Is  present  in 
every  climate  from  Yezo,  in  the  north  of  Japan,  to  the  soft,  semi- 
tropics  of  India.  It  is  also  found  in  the  basketry  of  our  own 
North  American  Indians,  and  cut  on  the  stone  discs  of  the  Mound 
Builders  of  Tennessee.  It  has  many  meanings,  but  in  China  is  un 
derstood  to  stand  for  the  male  and  female  principles,  light  and 
darkness,  or  positive  and  negative  forces. 

t  The  Sisters  of  Charity  in  China  declare  that  many  girl  babies 
never  laugh. 


A  CHINESE  GIRI,  23 

so  pleased  her  mother  that  she  left  her  weaving  and  whis 
pered  a  soft  prayer  into  the  little  brown  ear  of  her  child. 
A  prayer  to  the  same  goddess,  Hirati,  beseeching  her  to 
intercede  for  Ah  Moy  that  she  might  some  day  become 
the  mother  of  sons  —  for  she  was  now  betrothed  to  Ting 
Ho,  the  sturdy  three-year-old  son  of  Sing  Lee.  Soon 
after  this,  she  was  old  enough  to  have  her  pretty  little  fin 
gers  whipped;  for  a  Chinese  baby  must  not  lay  its  hand 
upon  anything  that  is  not  given  it.  Even  the  long  pipe 
that  her  father  smoked  so  temptingly  near,  as  he  carried 
her  in  his  arms,  was  forbidden  to  be  investigated  by  the 
slightest  touch. 

After  a  few  more  weeks  she  was  taken  out  into  the  open 
court  and  laid  upon  a  heavy  bed-quilt,  where  she  could  see 
her  sisters  play  and  hear  them  chant  the  pretty  hymns 
that  the  priest  had  given  them  to  learn.  The  great  out  of 
doors,  with  its  sky,  and  the  glory  of  color  around  her  was 
to  Ah  Moy  an  everchanging  wonderland.  From  the 
emerald  depths  of  a  bamboo  tree  that  had  thrown  one 
slender  arm  across  the  wall,  she  heard  the  soft,  far-away 
tinkle  of  the  bell  insect,  so  dear  to  painters  and  poets.* 
Her  father  was  very  fond  of  the  small  musicians  which 
swarmed  in  summer,  and  Ah  Moy's  ear  was  trained  to  in 
sect  music  by  ages  of  nature-loving  ancestors.  She  also 
head  the  frogs  in  her  father's  rice-fields  repeating  their 
poem  and  was  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  droning  of  the  bees 
and  the  sighing  of  the  pines. 

Ching  Fo  was  fond  of  his  three  daughters  and  joined 
in  their  play  with  youthful  simplicity.  He  caught  for 
them  fireflies  and  grasshoppers,  which  he  imprisoned  in  the 
tiniest  of  bamboo  cages;  he  hung  boughs  of  green  upon 
the  walls  to  attract  the  butterflies,  and  Ah  Moy  soon  grew 

*  Old  Chinese  poets  refer  to  the  bell  insect  with  great  affection, 
because  it  makes  a  noise  that  reminds  them  of  home. 


24  AH  MOT 

to  anticipate  with  pleasure  her  winged  visitors.  It  was 
a  great  event  in  the  lives  of  the  three  little  girls  when,  one 
day,  their  mother  placed  in  the  court  a  box  containing  five 
soft,  fluffy  little  chickens.  One  wing  of  each  little  chick 
was  dyed  purple,  so  that  they  might  be  distinguished  from 
Ah  Fat's  chickens,  which  had  a  red  spot  on  each  head. 
Every  day  the  chickens  were  turned  out  into  the  street  for 
exercise,  but  always  those  with  the  purple  wings  found 
their  way  back  to  the  court ;  while  Ah  Fat's  chickens  with 
the  red  heads  as  surely  went  into  his  gate.  The  little  girls 
played  with  their  new  pets,  divided  their  rice  with  them, 
and,  sometimes,  longed  to  follow  them  into  the  street;  but 
the  inexorable  custom  of  China,  which  gives  girls  no  privi 
leges  outside  their  own  gates,  was  rigidly  enforced. 

Once,  when  the  gate  had  been  left  ajar,  Ah  Moy,  number 
one,  ventured  out  into  the  path,  but  she  received  such  a 
cruel  blow  on  her  legs  that  she  never  repeated  the  disobedi 
ence  ;  and  that  night  her  nurse  told  a  frightful  story  about 
the  "  cave  of  the  infant  ghosts,"  and  how  a  great  dragon 
watches  for  disobedient  little  girls,  and,  to  catch  them,  and 
carry  them  off  to  a  place  where  they  must  build  sand  tow 
ers  which  are  ever  swept  away  by  the  wind,  and  which  the 
tired  little  hands  must  hasten  to  rebuild,  lest  the  dragon 
come  and  punish  them  for  idleness.  This  story  so  im 
pressed  Ah  Moy  number  one  that  she  dreamed  when  she 
went  to  sleep  that  the  dragon  came  and  fastened  his  claws 
deep  in  her  leg  where  the  bamboo  whip  had  left  its  mark. 

Thus  the  days  of  childhood  slipped  into  enchanted  years, 
and  the  three  daughters  of  Ching  Fo  lived  in  blissful  un 
consciousness  that  they  were  regarded  by  their  parents  as 
evidence  of  an  angry  god.  For  them,  as  for  other  chil 
dren,  there  were  days  of  joy  and  days  of  sorrow;  but  for 
them,  more  than  for  other  children,  the  birds  sang,  the 
bees  droned,  and  nature  poured  out  her  bounteous  store 


iK-fl 


He  carried  her  many  a  day  upon  his  arm.' 


26  AH  MOY 

of  bloom.  The  heart  of  Ching  Fo  was  warm  and  loving ; 
the  little  mother  was  a  model  of  devotion,  and  life  went 
on  from  year  to  year  in  a  home  where  but  little  gloom  fell 
through  the  sunshine.  Especially  was  the  love  of  Ching 
Fo  for  Ah  Moy,  number  three,  commented  upon  by  the 
people  in  the  neighborhood,  as  he  carried  her  on  his  arm 
to  see  the  trees  and  the  great  gray  boulders  that  projected 
from  the  mountain  side,  or  as  he  showed  her  the  bloom  on 
many  a  wayside  flower. 


Ill 

IN  the  fourth  spring  of  Ah  Moy's  life  an  event  occurred 
which  re-shaped  all  the  doings  of  the  bungalow.  One 
beautiful  April  day  there  was  added  to  the  family  another 
babe  —  a  babe  appointed  by  the  gods  to  continue  the 
family  worship  —  a  long-looked-f or,  a  patiently  waited 
for,  a  much  beloved  son. 

Ching  Fo  felt  now  the  blessed  assurance  that  for  him 
the  little  lamp  on  the  houshold  shrine  would  continue  to 
burn  as  it  had  done  for  his  fathers.  He  felt  that  for  him, 
as  for  them,  the  filial  love  of  his  son  would  ensure  a  tablet 
to  his  memory,  and  that  the  smoke  of  incense  would  curl  in 
misty  circles  over  his  unforgotten  name.  He  saw,  in 
softest  fancy,  the  children  of  his  children's  children  keep 
ing  the  home  life  forever  free  from  the  encroachment  of 
new  ideas. 

With  his  three  daughters,  he  continued  to  hold  happy 
and  loving  intercourse;  but  as  they  were  only  females,  he 
regarded  them  as  luxuries  rather  than  as  successors  to  his 
ancestral  line.  Beautiful  and  obedient  they  were,  and  now 
that  he  had  a  son,  he  felt  it  good  to  have  them,  for  they 
vied  with  him  in  celebrating  the  advent  of  the  man  child 
and  helped  to  make  his  home  the  happiest  in  the  land. 

The  news  that  a  son  had  been  born  to  his  honorable  line 
soon  spread  to  all  the  country  round  about,  for  the  proud 
father  immediately  had  set  before  his  house  the  tallest  bam 
boo  pole  that  could  be  found,  and,  from  its  top,  he  floated 
that  great  symbol  of  fecundity  and  strength,  a  paper  carp. 
Large  of  belly,  red  of  gill  and  gaping  of  mouth,  it 

27 


28  AH  MOY 

floated  and  thus  told  the  happy  story.  Many  a  time  had 
Ching  Fo  seen  his  neighbors  raise  the  carp  to  proclaim  the 
birth  of  a  son,  and  three  times  had  he  prepared  the  pole 
for  himself,  to  lay  it  sorrowfully  away,  because  the  God  of 
Fate  had  sent  him  only  a  daughter.  On  such  occasions, 
the  wise  ones  predicted  that  Ching  Fo  was  under  the  dis 
pleasure  of  the  gods,  and  that  his  family  line  would  perish 
from  the  earth;  but  now  the  noble  symbol  was  flaunting 
a  defiance  to  all  their  sneers  and  he  was  full  of  joy. 

The  son  was  strong  and  healthy,  and,  like  most  Chinese 
babies,  a  non-cryer.  The  poor  little-foot  mother  was 
hardly  able  to  be  about  before  relatives  began  to  come  from 
far  and  near  to  pay  their  respects  and  to  bring  gifts, 
which  proved  a  most  excellent  investment,  from  a  business 
point  of  view,  for  Ching  Fo  acknowledged  the  honor  paid 
his  son  by  returning  manifold. 

The  older  daughters  looked  on  with  wonder  at  the  im 
portance  attributed  to  the  advent  of  this  new  babe;  but 
Ah  Moy  number  three  cuddled  up  to  her  mother  and  gave 
vent  to  tears.  Ching  Fo,  seeing  how  deeply  she  grieved 
for  a  place  on  her  mother's  knee,  tried  to  console  her  with 
a  little  sleeve-dog,  which  he  presented  with  great  show  of 
ceremony. 

"  Take  this,  daughter  of  mine,"  he  said,  "  and  weep  no 
more,  for  in  the  next  incarnation  mayhap  thou  shalt  be 
born  a  male.  The  yoke  that  galls  thee  is  of  thy  own  mak 
ing,  pretty  one,  and  when  thou  hast  atoned  for  sins  com 
mitted  in  a  past  incarnation,  it  will  come  to  pass  that  thou 
shalt  be  no  more  a  despised  female.  Take  the  dog  and  — 
mayest  thou  achieve ! " 

Ah  Moy  took  the  dog  and  held  it  in  her  little  brown 
arms,  but  her  hurt  was  too  deep  to  be  so  easily  healed. 
She  soon  laid  it  down  and  clung  to  her  nurse  and  cried 
and  behaved  like  a  very  jealous  little  girl. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  29 

But  a  great  festival  called  the  "  feast  of  dolls,"  was 
near,  and  when  her  father  took  her  on  his  arm  to  see  the 
shops,  set  out  in  dazzling  array,  and  when  sweets  mys 
teriously  found  their  way  into  her  sleeve  pockets,  she  dried 
her  tears  and  joined  with  her  sisters  in  the  festivities. 

For  six  enchanted  days  the  celebration  continued,  with 
its  round  of  merry-making.  The  go-down  was  ransacked 
for  dolls  of  mothers  and  grandmothers,  and  the  tiniest  tod- 
lers  in  the  neighborhood  exchanged  calls  and  brought 
gifts.  The  Ching  Fo  family  donned  its  richest  silks  and 
kept  open  house,  while  games  and  other  amusements  were 
the  order  of  the  day.  A  new  doll  was  purchased  for  each 
daughter  in  the  family  and  as  all  must  be  dressed  in  silk 
and  have  many  pieces  of  miniature  furniture,  it  was  a  busy 
time;  and  when  the  festival  was  over  and  all  the  dolls  were 
stored  away,  to  be  seen  no  more  for  a  year,  little  Ah  Moy 
had  forgotten  her  trouble  and  contentedly  settled  into  her 
place. 

The  fifth  day  of  the  fifth  month  brought  another  festi 
val  of  great  importance  —  the  "  Boy's  Festival,"  and 
Ching  Fo  determined  to  observe  this  with  a  display  that 
should  be  worthy  of  his  son.  According  to  custom,  there 
should  be  at  this  season  a  pole,  flying  a  fish,  for  each  son 
in  the  family.  But  Ching  Fo  waived  the  strict  letter  of 
the  law  on  this  occasion  and  raised  a  whole  school  of  carp 
in  front  of  his  house  —  some  for  nephews,  some  for  pros 
pective  sons,  and  others  for  sons-in-law ;  while  within  doors 
miniature  warriors  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  a  soldier's 
train  were  arranged. 

On  the  streets  were  processions  of  old  and  young,  climb 
ing  the  long  hill  to  the  temple.  Never  before  in  all  her 
three  thousand  years  had  Hirati  had  so  many  young 
mothers  before  her;  never  before  had  the  temple  been  so 
thronged  with  boys.  Up  the  long  mountain  path  Ching 


30  AH  MOY 

Fo  decided  that  his  son  and  heir  should  be  taken,  and  to 
this  end  he  detailed  a  retinue  of  servants.  In  a  sedan 
chair,  bespangled  with  gold  embroidery  and  closed  in  with 
heavy  silk  curtains,  the  mother  and  infant  were  placed. 
Two  servants  preceded  them  to  beat  off  the  crowd,  while 
strung  out  in  single  file  behind  were  the  daughters  and  their 
nurses,  an  old  woman  to  act  as  adviser  in  case  of  ac 
cident,  and  friends  and  relatives  innumerable.  Four  men 
carried  the  sedan  chair,  while  each  rikisha  was  attended 
by  one  pull  man  and  one  push  man,  making  in  all  a  dozen 
or  more  servants  in  attendance  upon  this  blinking  baby. 

If  ever  a  young  mother  was  proud,  it  was  the  little  wife 
of  Ching  Fo  as  she  stood  with  her  son  before  Hirati  that 
day;  old  friends  congratulated  her;  the  poor  looked  with 
envy  upon  her  fine  cortege,  and  even  Hirati  seemed  to 
smile  down  upon  her. 

In  the  afternoon  a  priest,  with  shaven  head  and  yellow 
robe,  had  himself  let  down  from  the  highest  point  of  jut 
ting  rock,  in  order  that  he  might  indulge  in  grandiose 
prophecy  concerning  the  future  of  the  babe;  and  later, 
this  same  priest  performed  juggleries  and  sword-dances 
and  swallowed  fire  and  spat  out  ribbons,  and  by  a  magic 
sentence  changed  water  into  wine.  So  passed  a  delightful 
day,  and,  as  the  mists  of  evening  crept  over  the  distant 
hills,  Mrs.  Ching  Fo  and  her  party  turned  homeward, 
tired  out  with  pleasure. 

During  all  the  gala  day  the  son  had  uttered  no  protest, 
but  had  slept  and  eaten,  and,  like  a  true  philosopher, 
closed  his  eyes  when  the  smoke  of  incense  blew  too  strongly 
upon  him. 

After  the  festival  was  over  and  the  toys  were  all  laid 
away,  rice  and  chop-sticks  took  the  place  of  sweets,  and 
everything  fell  back  into  the  old,  uneventful  groove.  The 
little  girls  chanted  their  lessons  from  morning  until  night ; 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  31 

the  frogs  and  insects  kept  up  their  music;  and  the  rats 
scrambled  through  the  windows  and  down  the  chimney  in 
search  of  food.  Sing  Lee  rode  over  in  his  rikisha  once  a 
week  to  gossip,  and,  taking  it  all  in  all,  life  in  the  Ching  Fo 
household  was  happy  and  heaven  seemed  propitious. 


IV 

A  NOTHER  year  had  slipped  away  and  Ah  Moy  num- 
•£*•  her  three  was  growing  slender  and  graceful.  Her 
nimble  step  was  always  pattering  beside  her  father,  whom 
she  followed  with  the  sweet  constancy  of  an  affectionate 
nature.  Although  it  was  high  time  that  her  feet  were 
bound,  like  those  of  other  young  girls,  nothing  had  yet 
been  done  about  it,  except  that  Ching  Fo  had  several  times 
conversed  with  his  wife  on  the  subject  and  had  had  the 
child's  bed  removed  to  an  out-house  —  that  her  moans 
might  not  disturb  the  family. 

Ah  Moy  prattled  about  the  binding  in  her  pretty  baby 
fashion  and  thought  that  when  a  two  and  half-inch  shoe 
could  be  got  on  her  foot,  she  would  look  very  beautiful. 

"  Father,  tell  me  the  story  about  lilies  growing  in 
places  where  pretty  little  feet  have  trod,"  Ah  Moy  said 
one  bright  morning  as  she  slipped  her  hand  into  his. 

"  Yes,  daughter.  It  is  said  that  the  last  empress  of 
the  Shan  dynasty  wore  such  tiny  shoes  that  yellow  lilies 
sprang  out  of  the  ground  wherever  she  trod." 

"Father,  do  fairies  have  little  feet?" 

"  Yes,  daughter.  Fairies,  so  beloved  by  little  children, 
have  small  feet." 

"  And  will  my  betrothed  love  me  better,  if  I  have  my 
feet  bound?  "  the  child  continued. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  father,  "  no  refined  Chinaman  wishes 
to  marry  a  woman  with  large  feet." 

These  same  questions,  and  many  more,  Ah  Moy  put  to 
her  mother,  who  answered  with  sadness  in  her  tone, 

32 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  33 

"  Yes,  yes ;  it  is  the  custom,  and  women  have  little 
voice  in  the  matter." 

"  Women  must  obey  the  men  of  their  family,  whether 
they  wish  to  do  so  or  not,"  she  again  continued. 

"  Oh,  mamma,"  the  child  cried,  "  your  little  girl  will  not 
be  disobedient.  I  will  be  brave  and  keep  my  little  dog 
close  in  my  arms." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  mother,  "  perhaps  the  little  dog  will 
help  to  comfort  you  through  the  trying  ordeal." 

As  she  said  this  an  expression  of  pain  came  into  her  face, 
but  she  brushed  it  away  with  a  nervous  motion  of  the 
hand  and  said: 

'  We  will  wait  till  father  says  so.  It  will  be  time 
enough  when  he  speaks." 

That  evening,  in  answer  to  an  inquiry  from  his  wife, 
Ching  Fo  replied,  "  Yes,  it  must  be  done  soon,  but  let 
her  run  about  a  little  longer.  It  is  nearly  time  for  the 
plum  blossom  festival,  and  I  love  to  see  her  go  dancing 
down  the  paths  before  me,  to  watch  the  bloom  breaking 
through  the  bark.  Let  her  run  until  the  festival  is 
over." 

He  felt  the  balm  in  the  air  and  the  soft  clearness  of 
the  lengthened  days,  and  a  tenderness  crept  over  him  which 
made  the  prattle  of  his  children  unusually  sweet.  So  he 
said  again  to  his  wife: — 

"  Let  her  run.  Child  life  is  short  enough  at  best. 
When  the  festival  is  over,  we  will  attend  to  the  foot-bind- 
ing." 

His  wife  made  a  pretty,  resigned  bow,  but  her  husband 
noticed  an  expression  in  her  eye  not  altogether  in  accord 
with  her  usual  submissiveness. 

"  She  is  strong  and  brave,"  he  added,  *'  and  she  will 
bear  it  well." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  she  is  strong  and  if  it  must  be  done  —  it 


34  AH  MOT 

must  be  done,"  and  casting  a  pathetic  glance  at  her  own 
crippled  feet,  she  hobbled  out  of  the  room. 

Ching  Fo's  eyes  followed  her  with  a  look  of  surprise. 
He  had  never  suspected  that  his  wife  was  dissatisfied  with 
her  lot,  or  that  she  had  any  opinions  of  her  own. 

"  I  must  send  for  her  and  learn  the  meaning  of  the 
look  in  her  face,"  he  decided.  So  he  clapped  his  hands 
and  a  servant  entered. 

"Han  Kow,"  he  said,  "  inform  the  madam  that  I  would 
have  converse  with  her." 

"  The  madam?  "  the  man  replied,  "  I  know  not  where 
to  look  for  her.  I  have  seen  her  but  once  to-day,  and 
then  in  conversation  with  a  strange  woman  at  the  back 
gate." 

"  Find  her,"  the  master  commanded  angrily. 

Han  Kow  fled  from  the  room  and  hastened  through 
the  house  and  the  open  court  to  the  servants'  quarters, 
where  he  found  the  mistress  entertaining  her  son  with  a 
toy.  When  told  that  the  master  wished  her  to  report  to 
him  immediately,  she  hurried,  like  a  good  wife,  into  his 
presence. 

"  Let  us  speak  more  frankly  of  the  foot-binding," 
Ching  Fo  said,  "  is  everything  in  readiness?  " 

"  There  are  bandages  in  plenty  and  the  bed,  as  thou 
knowest,  is  removed  beyond  hearing,"  she  replied. 

"  I  like  not  thine  answers  to-day,"  frowned  Ching  Fo, 
"  hast  thou  told  me  all?  Have  you  not  had  conversa 
tion  with  some  one  outside  the  family?  " 

"  I  have  seen  no  one,"  she  answered,  "  except  a  worthy 
woman  who  asked  for  refreshments  to  bear  her  up  on  a 
long  journey." 

This  did  not  entirely  satisfy  the  husband,  but  he  turned 
the  conversation  to  the  coming  plum-blossom  season. 

"  We  must  prepare  for  many  guests,"  he  said,  "  for 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  35 

there  will  come  to  stay  with  us  two  nephews  from  beyond 
the  great  canal  and  a  son  of  my  uncle,  and  there  will  be 
friends  and  callers  at  all  hours.  You  must  see  to  it  that 
everything  is  in  readiness." 

"  Everything  will  be  in  readiness,"  responded  his  wife, 
and,  seeing  that  he  had  nothing  further  to  say  to  her,  she 
left  the  room.  The  next  day  was  so  fully  occupied  with 
preparations  for  her  husband's  guests  that  she  did  not  have 
time  for  thought  about  foot-binding. 

Crisp  hog  skin  and  mushroom  sauce  filled  the  wife's 
mind;  preserved  eggs  that  had  been  laid  away  in  ashes 
of  straw  by  her  own  dainty  fingers,  were  to  be  resurrected, 
and  sweets,  beyond  the  brightest  dreams  of  the  little  girls, 
must  be  patted  into  shape.  Besides  preparing  the  refresh 
ments,  the  lintels  of  the  doors  and  the  blank  spaces  on  the 
walls  must  be  covered  with  red  paper,  and  over  the  bunga 
low  must  float  a  new  silk  flag. 

And  because  the  little  wife  of  Ching  Fo  had  so  much  to 
do  that  she  did  not  know  where  to  begin,  she  decided  to 
send  a  rikisha  eoolie  over  to  the  home  of  Sing  Lee  and 
invite  the  worthy  matron  of  that  house  to  come  and  con 
fer  with  her  concerning  some  of  the  details  of  the  work. 
It  was  a  happy  thought  and  turned  a  gloomy  morning 
into  a  sunny  afternoon. 

The  wife  of  Sing  Lee  was  much  pleased  at  the  honor 
paid  her,  and  was  glad  to  have  an  excuse  for  going  out, 
so  she  made  hasty  preparations  to  obey  the  summons.  She 
belonged  to  the  wealthy  class  and  would  not,  if  she  could, 
and  could  not,  if  she  would,  move  without  a  maid,  so  she 
brought  with  her  Lo  Ming,  a  normal  footed  servant. 
Being  heavily  built  and  the  mother  of  many  children,  the 
wife  of  Sing  Lee  waddled  like  a  goose  on  her  three-inch 
shoes ;  but  Lo  Ming  stood  firm  on  wooden  clogs  and  sup 
ported  her  mistress.  Lo  Ming  also  wore  ornaments  in 


36  AH  MOY 

her  hair  that  jingled,  and  smooth,  green  bracelets  on  her 
wrists,  which  were  placed  there  soon  after  she  was  born. 

Besides  her  maid,  the  lady  brought  along  an  infant  and 
its  nurse,  a  man  to  run  ahead  and  a  push  man,  so  that  the 
string  of  attendants  upon  this  one  informal  call  was  five. 
The  nurse  and  the  baby  and  the  maid  came  into  the  house 
with  the  mistress,  but  the  coolies  curled  themselves  up  on 
the  sidewalk  and  went  to  sleep. 

Leaning  heavily  upon  the  shoulder  of  her  maid,  the 
visitor  entered  the  presence  of  her  hostess  with  much  for 
mality  and  rustling  of  silken  trousers.  As  soon  as  the 
ceremony  of  entrance  was  over,  the  good  lady  brought  a 
few  choice  recipes  out  of  her  sleeve  and  proceeded  to  ex 
plain  their  special  merits.  Then  followed  conversation 
about  the  coming  festivities.  Madam  Sing  Lee  offered  to 
lend  ivory  chop-sticks  and  supply  any  lack  of  dainties 
from  her  own  store.  Many  little  nothings  were  discussed, 
much  tea  was  sipped,  and  the  water  clock  pointed  to  the 
hour  of  five  before  Mrs.  Sing  Lee,  with  her  train  of  at 
tendants,  took  the  road  for  home. 

The  next  day,  however,  things  began  to  move  in  the 
house  of  Ching  Fo.  The  servants  were  called  together 
and  the  work  was  laid  out  in  true  business-like  style,  the 
Dragon  flag  was  finished,  packages  of  fire-crackers  and  in 
cense-sticks  were  brought  out  of  their  boxes,  and  a  glare  of 
red  paper  transformed  the  doors  and  lintels.  A  week  of 
this  strenuous  work  and  the  house  of  Ching  Fo  broke  into 
loud  jubilee. 

Double-headers  were  exploded  and  tom-toms  beaten ; 
stringed  instruments  and  wind  instruments  throbbed  weird 
music  on  the  evening  breeze ;  processions  of  children  chanted 
Buddhist  hymns,  and  long  rows  of  lanterns  cast  a  magic 
glow  over  the  scene.  The  whole  of  China  was  newly 
shaven  and  newly  clad;  spotless  white  stockings  peeped 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  37 

from  beneath  trousers  of  heavenly  blue;  queues  were 
lengthened  and  swung  artistically  about  the  heels ;  while  in 
every  house,  even  those  of  the  poorest,  a  little  incense 
smoldered  before  a  shrine  or  curled  over  the  graves  of  pet 
animals  or  birds. 

When  the  feast  of  the  dead  was  ready  Ching  Fo  placed 
the  spirit-recalling  incense  in  a  burner  before  the  ancestral 
shrine,  and,  with  eyes  slightly  inclined  toward  the  nose, 
meditated  upon  the  sacred  faces  of  his  dead.  As  the  per 
fume  filled  the  room,  he  folded  his  hands  and  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  the  fire  until  he  saw  a  spirit  hover  in  the  smoke,  take 
shape,  grow  brighter,  become  illumined,  and  then  softly 
fade  away.  How  long  he  meditated  and  how  intense  the 
strain,  was  only  revealed  by  the  drops  of  perspiration  that 
beaded  his  shaven  forehead.  After  a  season  af  silence 
he  arose,  went  to  the  table  and  religiously  set  apart  space 
for  his  invisible  guests.  Then  there  gathered  around  the 
board  such  male  members  of  his  family  as  had  paid  their 
debts,  dissipated  their  "  wrath  matter,"  and  were  able  to 
wish  each  other  good  luck  for  a  thousand  years  to  come. 
Abstemiousness  and  ceremonious  politeness  characterized 
this  feast  of  the  dead;  but,  after  it  was  over,  for  ten  en 
chanted  days,  poetry  and  "  squeeze  pidgin,"  *  gambling 
and  drinking  followed. 

To  each  of  his  friends  Ching  Fo  sent  a  present,  wrapped 
in  many  folds  of  ceremonious  paper,  while  to  his  children 
he  brought  gifts  of  toys  and  fruit,  and  lavished  upon 
them  an  exuberance  of  love.  "  Perfume  of  the  lotus," 
"  dew  of  the  morning  "  and  "  heaven  born,"  were  not  too 
extravagant  names  for  him  to  bestow  upon  his  daughters 

during  the  plum-blossom  season. 

*  A  sort  of  commission,  generally  in  the  form  of  a  present,  which 
is  exacted  by  Chinamen  who  assist  in  arranging  the  details  of  a 
trade. 


38  AH  Mor 

The  trees,  about  which  centered  a  large  part  of  the  fes 
tivities,  were  gnarled  and  old;  green  moss  hung  heavily 
on  the  north  sides,  and  many  birds  nested  in  their  boughs. 
But  they  were  transformed,  before  the  festival  was  over, 
by  fluttering  scraps  of  paper,  on  which  were  written 
verses.  In  this  happy  contest  of  poetry-making,  all  were 
welcome.  Whether  visionary  young  women  dashed  off  a  line 
and  twisted  it  with  deft  fingers  around  a  twig,  or  whether 
sedate  old  men  pondered  long  over  a  sonnet,  was  a  matter 
of  little  moment  to  Ching  Fo ;  for  he  felt  that  the  great 
watchful  heavens  proclaimed  the  equality  of  man  at  this 
season.  Confucius  had  taught,  long  centuries  before,  that 
all  the  black-haired  men  were  brethren,  and  Ching  Fo,  as 
his  heart  expanded  with  the  budding  spring,  felt  the  one 
ness  of  his  kind.  Beside  his  realization  of  fellowship,  there 
had  been  poured  into  his  soul  myth  after  myth  concerning 
the  festival,  each  of  which  had  sunk  in  and  been  absorbed 
until  every  detail  of  the  occasion  symbolized  something  ei 
ther  beautiful,  mysterious,  or  terrible.  To  gather  his  fam 
ily  under  a  tree  while  he  struck  its  limbs  with  a  long  pole 
and  brought  down  upon  them  a  shower  of  scented  petals 
was,  to  his  mind,  a  baptism  which  carried  with  it  the  sacred- 
ness  of  a  religious  rite.  To  buy  birds  in  cages  for  his  chil 
dren  to  liberate,  was  to  him  an  invocation  to  the  goddess  of 
Mercy  that  all  slaves  might  go  free.  To  have  his  son 
seated  at  his  right  hand  was  to  honor  his  father  and  his 
mother  and  to  insure  the  succession  of  the  family  worship. 


fTIHE  plum-blossom  season  was  over.  The  poems  had 
A  all  been  gathered  from  the  tree,  and  folded  in  baskets 
to  be  reread  as  time  and  inclination  favored.  The  chil 
dren's  toys  were  in  the  go-down  without  a  mar.  Things 
that  would  have  gone  to  pieces  like  egg  shells  in  the  hands 
of  western  children  were  safely  stored  away  for  another 
holiday,  and  life  in  the  bungalow  was  settling  back  into  its 
usual  monotony.  One  evening,  when  the  sky  was  golden 
in  the  west,  Ching  Fo  stepped  into  the  path  and  turned 
toward  the  old  tree  to  see  if,  per  chance,  it  was  putting  out 
any  new  bloom.  As  he  did  so,  he  heard  Ah  Moy's  light  step 
behind  him  and  smiled  back  an  invitation  to  her  to  accom 
pany  him.  They  walked  leisurely,  Ah  Moy's  tongue  prat 
tling  about  some  childish  grief.  As  they  passed  close  to 
the  wall  which  enclosed  the  premises,  a  bit  of  paper  came 
fluttering  toward  them. 

"  Some  belated  guest,"  thought  Ching  Fo,  as  he  un 
folded  a  neatly-written  page.  To  his  astonishment,  he 
found  that,  although  done  in  the  refined  language  of  the 
Wenli  (a  language  spoken  only  by  the  educated  class), 
it  contained  a  criticism  on  the  custom  of  foot-binding.  By 
what  authority  it  had  been  written,  and  by  whose  auda 
cious  hand  intruded  upon  his  premises,  were  questions  that 
knit  his  brow  and  darkened  his  eye.  Naturally  his  first 
thought  was  of  the  missionaries,  who  had  so  persistently 
maintained  their  school  below,  on  the  Yang-tse-Kiang  river. 
But  as  he  looked  the  document  over,  he  saw  that  it  bore 
none  of  the  marks  of  their  work. 

"  They  never  write  in  verse,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and 

39 


40  AH  MOY 

they    would    not  —  they    could    not  —  use    the    beautiful 
ideographs  of  the  Wenli." 

Ah  Moy  saw  the  cloud  that  had  spread  over  her  father's 
face  and  slipped  her  little  hand  into  his,  but  he  did  not 
notice  her  now.  The  sentiment  expressed  in  that  trifling 
verse  had  stung  him  as  an  insult.  It  was  his  first  thought 
to  burn  the  sheet  and  thus  end  the  matter,  but,  after  a  little 
hesitation,  he  folded  it  deep  into  his  sleeve,  all  the  while 
dubiously  shaking  his  head. 

"  If  the  wife  should  get  a  glimpse  of  it,"  he  thought, 
"  it  would  add  fuel  to  the  fire  already  kindled,"  then,  turn 
ing  to  his  little  daughter,  he  took  her  hand  and  together 
they  walked  back  to  the  house.  There  everything  was  as 
they  had  left  it ;  the  lamp  flickered  on  the  household  shrine, 
the  setting  sun  still  worked  its  miracle  of  purple  and 
gold  on  the  mountain  peaks,  while  blue  sheets  of  mist  were 
gloaming  in  the  valley ;  but  Ching  Fo  only  saw  the  poem 
which  had  been  aimed  by  sacrilegious  hands  at  his  family 
life. 

The  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more  he  felt  that  it  was 
a  matter  of  too  much  importance  to  be  passed  lightly  over. 
It  came  beating  into  his  heart  that  he  must  consult  with 
someone  about  it,  and  that  this  someone  must  not  be  his 
wife.  In  this  state  of  mind,  he  put  on  a  heavily  wadded 
blouse  and  went  out  into  the  street.  At  once  a  swarm  of 
rikisha  coolies  gathered  about  him  to  solicit  his  patron 
age,  but  without  heeding  them  he  turned  into  the  narrow 
path  that  led  up  to  the  temple.  He  had  gone  but  a  few 
steps,  however,  before  he  turned  back  and  addressed  the 
nearest  coolie,  saying: — 

"  Take  me  down  to  the  house  of  Sing  Lee." 

It  was  but  a  short  run  down  the  hill  to  his  friend's  house, 
and  as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  its  quiet  roof  he  decided  in 
his  heart  to  be  governed  by  Sing  Lee's  advice. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  41' 

As  he  stepped  out  of  the  rikisha  Ching  Fo  felt  in  his 
sleeve  to  make  sure  that  the  offensive  paper  was  still  there, 
and  then  struck  the  old  bronze  bell  a  vigorous  blow.  A 
servant  unbarred  the  door,  and  the  visitor  passed  up  a  pair 
of  wooden  stairs  to  the  roof,  where  he  found  Sing  Lee,  fac 
ing  the  south  and  softly  strumming  a  small  stringed  instru 
ment.  Ching  Fo  paused  to  listen. 

After  a  short  prelude,  a  voice  rose  clear  and  sweet  in  an 
old,  familiar  song: 

"  The  sun  is  setting  and  I  loose  my  boat, 
And  lightly  o'er  the  misty  waters  float — " 

The  verse  was  not  finished,  however,  for  Sing  Lee  felt 
the  approach  of  his  friend,  and,  laying  the  instrument 
down,  arose  and  bowed  very  slow,  saying, 

"  The  unexpected  happens  when  Ching  Fo  leaves  his 
own  delightful  home  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  Sing  Lee. 
All  is  well  at  the  bungalow,  I  hope." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  all  is  well." 

"  Art  thou  fully  rested  after  the  joys  of  the  plum- 
blossom  festival?  "  inquired  Sing  Lee. 

"  Fully,"  returned  Ching  Fo,  "  and  ready  to  resume  the 
duties  of  the  hour.  Are  the  gods  good  to  thee  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  the  gods  are  good,"  answered  Sing  Lee. 

'  Music  hath  charms,"  remarked  Ching  Fo,  "  let  us 
hear  a  song." 

At  which  Sing  Lee,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
sang, — 
"  You  ask  me  why  I  greet  the  priest,  but  not  his  god  ? 

The  god  sits  mute,  the  man,  at  least  returns  my  nod." 

"  A  characteristic  prank,"  remarked  Ching  Fo,  "  wilt 
thou  never  leave  off  nonsense?  I  came  to  consult  you 
upon  a  serious  matter." 


42  AH  MOY 

"  Very  well,  then,  we  shall  be  serious.  Is  there  some 
thing  of  mutual  interest?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ching  Fo,  "  something  of  interest  to  all 
good  men.  Hast  thou  not  heard  how  the  foreign  devils 
are  pushing  into  the  land,  and  how  they  intrude  their 
ideas  upon  us?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is  an  ever-increasing  crop  of  them,  I  ad 
mit,  but  we  must  make  the  best  of  it,"  answered  Sing  Lee. 

At  this  Ching  Fo  scrutinized  the  face  of  Sing  Lee  to 
see  whether  it  betrayed  sympathy  with  the  foreigner. 
But,  seeing  nothing,  he  continued  in  a  carelesss  manner, 
"  Another  poem  has  been  added  to  those  already  gathered 
at  the  festival." 

"  Allow  me  the  pleasure  of  reading  it,"  requested  Sing 
Lee,  "  perchance  the  last  is  best  —  it  sometimes  happens 
so." 

Thus  reassured,  Ching  Fo  pulled  the  obnoxious  poem 
from  his  sleeve  and  handed  it  to  his  friend,  who  read  it 
with  mingled  amusement  and  surprise. 

"  What  mountebank  has  written  this,"  he  exclaimed  as 
be  finished.  "  It  reads  like  a  lay  from  the  '  Beggar's  Pa 
goda.'  Surely  the  writer  cannot  boast  of  his  wit,  although 
he  has  written  in  the  Wenli." 

"  No,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  but  there  is  danger  in  it. 
Such  tilings  do  harm  if  not  looked  after.  It  is  against 
the  law  of  China  to  put  upon  paper  that  which  will  cause 
disrespect  of  ancestral  customs." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  answered  Sing  Lee,  "  but  we  all  know  that 
there  is  an  effort  being  made  to  create  sentiment  against 
the  practice  of  foot-binding." 

"  What  right  have  they  to  intrude  upon  our  home  life, 
or  to  thrust  their  opinions  upon  those  who  do  not  want 
them?" 
^    "  Oh,  the  foreigners  are  not  so  much  concerned  about 


/'.:  ' 


The  plague  of  girls." 


44  AH  MOT 

ethics.  They  just  go  ahead  with  their  own  ideas  and 
let  the  consequences  fall  where  they  will.  But,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  have  had  some  serious  misgivings  upon  the  sub 
ject  of  foot-binding,  myself — " 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you  would  have  it  dis 
continued?  "  demanded  Ching  Fo  in  some  astonishment. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Sing  Le,  "  I  am  not  ready  to  say 
that,  but,  do  you  not  think  that  the  torture  is  unneces 
sary?  " 

Ching  Fo  sat  in  silence  for  some  moments  before  he  re 
plied  : 

"  No ;  what  we  prize  in  our  women  is  the  sacred  thought 
which  they  hold  toward  motherhood.  If  given  liberty  to 
run  about  as  much  as  they  wish,  their  minds  might  be  di 
verted  from  their  home-life,  and  then,  slowly  but  surely, 
the  generations  to  come  would  degenerate.  Even  admit 
ting  that  in  some  cases  women  do  suffer  with  their  feet, 
that  is  less  harmful  than  having  their  minds  filled  with 
frivolity.  It  is  to  the  custom  of  foot-binding  that  we  are 
indebted  for  the  purity  and  the  homestaying  habits  of  our 
women.  We  hear  much  of  the  worship  of  women  in  west 
ern  countries,  but  theirs  is  only  the  worship  of  the  young 
and  the  beautiful.  We  worship  women  whose  faces  have 
been  transfigured  by  patience  and  long  suffering  into 
good  mothers." 

"  That  is  all  true,"  acknowledged  Sing  Lee,  "  I  am  not 
ready  to  advise  against  foot-binding ;  but,  still,  I  say  that 
it  is  very  painful,  and  may  some  day  be  considered  unnec 
essary." 

"  In  that  case,"  returned  Ching  Fo,  "  we  shall  lose  one 
of  the  greatest  of  our  moral  safeguards." 

For  a  little  longer  time  the  two  discussed  the  disturbing 
subject,  but  arrived  at  no  reasonable  solution  of  its  value. 
So  Ching  Fo  returned  the  paper  to  his  sleeve  and  went  out 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  45 

into  the  moonlit  path.  As  he  walked  toward  his  home, 
he  felt  a  rankling  in  his  heart  against  all  foreigners. 
Although  he  had  arrived  at  no  definite  conclusion  about  the 
authorship  of  the  poem,  he  felt  it  to  be  by  some  outside  bar 
barian  and  that  it  was  a  blow  at  cherished  institutions.  He 
was  carried  away  by  a  flood  of  hate  for  a  race  that  was  not 
his  race  and  for  blood  that  was  not  his  blood. 

Upon  entering  his  own  grounds,  he  closed  the  gate 
with  a  bang,  and,  after  placing  the  heavy  iron  bars  across 
it,  he  called  his  wife.  That  model  of  obedience  made  haste 
to  answer,  and  her  husband  said  with  determination  in  his 
voice. 

"  It  is  time  that  the  bandages  be  placed  upon  the  feet 
of  the  third  daughter.  I  therefore  command  thee  to  have 
everything  done  that  is  customary  upon  such  occasions." 

To  his  astonishment,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  his 
wife  showed  unwillingness  to  obey  his  order.  At  this  he 
demanded  of  her  a  full  confession  of  all  that  she  thought, 
and  an  explanation  of  how  she  had  arrived  at  an  opinion 
so  in  conflict  with  the  traditions  of  their  ancestors. 

Then  the  wife  timidly  confessed  that  the  women  of  the 
neighborhood  had  been  talking  together  of  the  cruelty  of 
foot-binding  and  that  they  had  heard  of  a  society  formed 
in  Shanghai  for  the  purpose  of  creating  sentiment  against 
the  custom.  She  told  him  that  the  ladies  who  were  inter 
ested  were  the  wives  of  men  in  high  positions,  and  that  some 
of  them  went  to  the  Buddhist  temple  to  pray  and  she  ex 
pressly  assured  him  that  they  were  not  missionaries  or 
teachers  of  any  foreign  religion.  At  this  juncture,  she 
took  from  her  sleeve  a  copy  of  the  North  China  Daily  News 
and  pointed  out  to  her  liege  lord  an  advertisement,  which 
read: 

"  Natural  Feet  Society.     President,   Mrs.   Drummond : 

"  This  society  has  been  formed  to  distribute  pamphlets, 


46  AH  MOY 

leaflets  and  pictures,  among  the  Chinese,  on  the  subject  of 
the  prevailing  practice  of  foot-binding,  to  encourage  the 
formation  of  leagues,  and  in  other  ways  to  influence  native 
opinion.  It  also  proposes  to  offer,  from  time  to  time, 
prizes  for  the  best  Chinese  essays  on  the  subject. 

"  The  ladies  of  the  committee  solicit  donations  of  $1 
and  upwards,  and  also  ask  all  those  interested  in  freeing 
Chinese  women  from  the  bondage  of  this  cruel  custom,  to 
seek  out  fresh  means  of  distributing  literature,  whether 
through  the  kind  assistance  of  missionaries,  or  merchants, 
either  foreign  or  Chinese,  or,  better  still,  of  personal 
friends. 

"  All  ladies  willing  to  help  toward  the  objects  of  the 
society,  in  either  of  these  ways,  are  requested  to  send  their 
names  to  one  of  the  Shanghai  secretaries,  to  be  enrolled 
as  associates.  It  is  hoped  that  in  all  the  out-ports,  local 
committees  may  shortly  be  formed,  and  that  in  this  way 
foreign  women  residing  in  China  may  be  found  united  in 
doing  what  they  can  to  save  little  girls  from  the  torture 
of  a  custom  that  has  nothing  to  recommend  it  save  that 
it  is  the  custom.  The  co-operation  of  Chinese  ladies  will 
be  still  more  gladly  welcomed. 

"  The  object  being  to  uproot  a  fashion,  rather  than  to 
combat  a  principle,  it  is  especially  hoped  that  ladies  will, 
as  far  as  possible,  act  on  their  own  initiative,  each  doing 
what  she  can  in  her  own  immediate  circle,  without  waiting 
for  instructions  from  the  committee,  but  acting  as  she 
thinks  best  to  advance  the  aim  of  the  society,  remembering 
that  a  fashion  like  foot-binding,  which  is  not  based  upon 
reason,  is  quite  as  likely  to  be  overturned  by  an  appeal  to 
good  taste  or  good  feeling  as  by  the  most  learned  of  argu 
ments." 

The  names  of  the  ladies  who  formed  the  committee  were 
signed. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  47 

When  Ching  Fo  had  finished  reading  this  paper,  he 
glared  at  his  wife  in  angry  amazement,  but  before  he  could 
find  words  to  express  his  indignation,  she  said: — 

"  I  have  hobbled  all  my  life  on  crippled  feet  and  I  would 
that  I  might  save  our  youngest  daughter  from  the  torture. 
I  understand  that  from  your  decision  there  is  no  appeal, 
and  that  it  were  madness  to  think  of  disobeying  your  or 
ders;  but  I  most  sincerely  request  that  you  consider  the 
matter  a  little  further.  It  may  be  that  we  have  come  to 
a  new  era  when  the  torture  of  our  female  children  can  be 
omitted." 

Ching  Fo  listened  to  her  longer  than  she  had  expected. 
He  even  weighed  her  words  carefully,  but  finally  said : — 

"  I  have  seen  the  foreign  women  in  Shanghai  tramping 
about  like  men,  and  I  know  that  their  ideas  of  propriety 
are  very  far  from  the  Chinese  standard.  Their  feet  are 
large,  and  their  dresses  are  drawn  in  at  the  waist  in  a  way 
that  would  make  a  Chinese  woman  blush.  Some  of  the 
best  of  them  have  been  obliged  to  modify  their  apparel 
before  an  introduction  to  Chinese  ladies.  Women  who  de 
form  their  waists  and  expose  their  necks  are  not  in  a  posi 
tion  to  offer  advice  to  us." 

"  No.  But  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  our  little 
daughter  would  become  immodest  because  she  had  natural 
feet,"  said  the  mother. 

"  When  women  can  .run  about,  they  are  in  danger  of 
falling  into  bad  habits ;  then  comes  neglect  of  duties  and 
disobedience  to  husbands,  and  then  the  foundation  of  the 
home  is  in  danger.  Women  are  not  strong-minded  enough 
to  take  care  of  themselves,  and  it  is  necessary  that  men 
should  regulate  their  lives  for  them.  Women  are  honored 
for  their  virtues  and  not  because  they  can  tramp  about  like 
men,"  replied  Ching  Fo. 

Then,  taking  a  copy  of  the  Confucian  Code,  he  read : 


L 


48  AH  MOY 

"  A  woman  requires  no  extraordinary  talent ;  her  coun 
tenance  requires  no  exquisite  beauty ;  her  words  require 
no  fluent  lips ;  her  labor  requires  no  high  degree  of  dex 
terity.  Let  her  be  chaste,  modest,  innocent,  sober,  and 
economical.  Let  her  preserve  her  modesty  and  choose  her 
words.  This  constitutes  female  virtue." 

"  The  binding  of  the  feet,"  continued  he,  "  is  calcu 
lated  to  enhance  all  these  charms.  Suffering  is  the  price 
of  a  subjugated  will,  and  women  must  be  kept  in  subjuga 
tion.  Remember  that  the  third  daughter  has  in  her  keep 
ing  the  welfare  of  a  new  generation  and  all  that  makes  for 
its  good  must  be  fostered.  What  would  Ting  Ho  say 
when  he  comes  to  manhood,  to  find  that  his  betrothed 
had  large  feet?  It  would  not  do.  So  now  I  command 
thee  to  have  the  bandages  placed  on  the  feet  of  Ah  Moy, 
number  three,  to-morrow  morning." 

"  It  shall  be  done,"  said  the  mother,  and  she  sorrowfully 
limped  from  the  room. 

Soon  after  she  was  gone,  Ah  Fat  came  in  and  the  sub 
ject  of  foot-binding  again  came  under  discussion. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  seen  the  poem  sent  out  by  the 
anti-foot-binding  society  and  I  rather  like  it.  I  believe 
they  are  working  in  a  way  to  do  good.  I  have  no  daugh 
ters,  but  if  I  had,  I  think  I  should  have  them  unbound. 
The  custom  causes  great  suffering,  and  I  see  no  reason 
why  women  may  not  be  good  wives,  with  natural  feet.  I 
have  heard  it  said  that  some  of  the  mission  schools,  where 
the  experiment  has  been  tried,  find  it  difficult  to  get  hus- 
hands  for  their  girls ;  but  let  them  try  it.  This  new  anti- 
foot-binding  society  is  working  in  a  way  to  make  friends. 
They  write  poems  and  conform  to  Chinese  etiquette." 

*'  But,"  remonstrated  Ching  Fo,  "  you  must  remember 
that  in  a  great  majority  of  cases  the  family  life  of  the 
Chinese  is  happy,  and  that  the  Chinese  mother  is  the 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  49 

best  of  mothers.  Would  she  continue  to  be  so  if  she  were 
allowed  to  run  about  wherever  she  pleased?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Ah  Fat,  "I  think  she  would.  The 
woman  has  the  interest  of  her  family  at  heart,  as  much  as 
her  husband  has,  and  she  has  sorrows  enough  without  our 
inflicting  this  one.  But,"  he  added  pleasantly,  "  a  daugh- 
terless  man's  opinion  is  of  little  value,  and,  after  all,  each 
of  us  must  act  in  accordance  with  his  own  judgment." 

So  they  changeoj  the  subject  of  conversation,  and  sipped 
tea  until  the  hour  of  the  rat,  when,  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  Ah  Fat  took  his  rikishaw  for  home. 


VI 

AH   MOY   submitted  to   the   process   of   foot-binding 
without   a   protest.     Obedience,   repression   of   emo- 
,    tion,  and  a  strange  indifference  to  physical  pain,  were  in 
heritances  bequeathed  to  her  from  uncounted  generations 
of  ancestors. 

Bandages,  two  and  a  half  yards  long,  by  two  inches 
wide,  were  drawn  around  her  feet,  in  such  a  way  as  to  force 
all  the  toes,  except  the  large  one,  under  the  soles.  Twice 
a  day  and  for  many  weeks,  they  were  tightened,  each  time 
driving  her  toes  further  under,  until  they  came  peeping 
out  on  the  inside  of  her  instep.  For  the  first  year  her 
nurse  thought  the  muscles  would  yield  to  the  pressure 
and  retain  their  new  shape,  but  poor  little  Ah  Moy's  feet 
had  more  than  their  share  of  elasticity  in  them,  and  every 
time  the  bandages  were  taken  off,  the  muscles  sprank  back 
to  their  natural  position,  until,  finally,  it  became  necessary 
to  break  the  bones.  After  this  was  done  and  additional 
straps  and  bandages  fastened  around  the  instep,  the  toes 
kept  their  place.  But  in  a  few  days  they  became  so 
swollen  and  painful  that  Ah  Moy  sat  crying  in  her  room 
all  day  long.  Her  little  sleeve-dog  gave  her  no  more 
pleasure,  and  she  had  to  hang  her  feet  over  the  foot  board 
of  her  bed  so  as  to  deaden  the  pain.  Her  father  came  and 
gave  her  opium  and  commanded  her  to  move  about;  but 
her  sufferings  had  gone  to  a  point  where  she  could  no 
longer  obey.*  Under  her  eyes  came  the  great  black  lines 

*  The  Italian  Mother-Superior  at  Han  Kow  told  the  author  of 
this  book  that,  with  the  best  of  care,  many  of  the  girls  died  during 
the  ordeal  of  foot-binding. 

50 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  51 

and  into  her  face  came  that  curious  shade  of  yellow  that 
is  never  seen  except  in  connection  with  foot-binding. 

Ching  Fo  and  his  wife  both  thought  that  more  than 
likely  the  third  daughter  would  die  under  the  ordeal.  She 
wasted  to  a  skeleton,  and  gangrene  tore  off  great  pieces  of 
her  flesh.  Blood-poison  spread  through  her  system,  and 
fever  painted  scarlet  patches  on  her  cheek. 

But  the  God  of  Fate  had  it  written  in  his  book  that  Ah 
Moy  was  not  yet  to  die,  so  at  last  he  sent  the  spirit  of  heal 
ing  to  brood  over  her,  and  after  three  years  of  suffering 
the  worst  was  over.  The  color  came  back  to  her  face ;  she 
again  found  pleasure  in  insect  music  and  the  song  of  birds ; 
she  heard  the  sighing  of  the  pines  and  saw  the  shadow 
of  the  clouds,  as  they  threw  dark  patches  on  the  moun 
tain  side.  And,  strange,  oh,  passing  strange,  the  refine 
ment  of  torture  through  which  she  had  passed  left  upon  her 
an  irresistible  charm, —  a  charm  which  comes  only  to  those 
who  have  suffered  to  the  point  of  breaking.  Ching  Fo 
saw  it,  and  called  the  attention  of  his  wife  to  the  soft  lines 
of  beauty  that  had  been  wrought  in  their  daughter's  face. 

"  It  is  the  subtle  charm  of  the  little-foot  woman,"  said 
he. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  replied  his  wife,  "  she  is  very  beautiful. 
Sing  Lee's  family  will,  no  doubt,  be  very  proud  of  her." 

"  We  must  now  look  to  her  education,"  said  the  father, 
"  she  must  learn  to  chant  the  Buddhist  prayers,  to  em 
broider  and  even  to  make  short  rhymes;  for,  although 
women  are  not  supposed  to  add  much  to  poetry,  it  is  very 
becoming  in  them  to  compose  verses." 

Thus  a  new  era  began  for  Ah  Moy.  She  learned  to 
drone  her  prayers  for  hours  each  day;  she  embroidered 
butterflies  and  lotus-leaves,  and  entered  into  happy  little 
contests  with  her  father  in  verse-making.  On  one  occa 
sion,  when  she  had  gone  with  him  for  a  walk,  he  was  sur- 


52  AH  MOY 

prised  to  hear  her  compose  a  verse  which  even  to  his  trained 
ear  sounded  well. 

"  Father,"  she  said,  "  this  place  is  so  delightful  that  I 
feel  as  though  I  could  compose  a  poem  in  its  honor." 
l~  "  Mayhap,  if  the  bird  sings  in  thine  own  heart,  it  augurs 
*     I  a  son  who  shall  be  a  poet,"  said  her  father,  at  which  she 
(^turned  her  face  away  from  him  and  repeated, 

"  A  butterfly  bright,  on  the  lotus  is  resting, 
A  bird  in  the  shade  of  the  rushes  is  nesting, 
A  cloud  throws  a  shadow  on  father  and  daughter 
And  away  goes  my  verse  on  the  swift  running  water." 

"  Well  done,  Ah  Moy.  Hadst  thou  been  a  boy,  I  should 
have  expected  great  things  of  thee.  Canst  thou  repeat 
something  from  one  of  the  ancient  classics?  " 

"  Shall  I  repeat  the  poem  about  the  young  man  whose 
father  died,  and  left  him  so  lonely,  when  he  was  young?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  do  it  well,"  replied  the  father. 

But  when  she  tried  to  begin  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  father,  it  is  so  sad,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  father,  "  I  remember  the  poem. 
It  was  written  more  than  two  thousand  years  ago  by  Liu 
Heng.  But  it  is  still  a  favorite  with  many.  If  you  can 
remember  it,  I  should  like  very  much  to  hear  it." 

Ah  Moy  then  turned  her  face  away  and  recited  each 
verse  correctly. 

"  I  look  up  and  the  curtains  are  there,  as  of  yore, 
I  look  down,  and  there  is  the  mat  on  the  floor. 
These  things  I  behold,  but  the  man  is  no  more. 
To  the  infinite  azure  his  spirit  has  flown, 
And  I  am  left  friendless,  uncared  for,  alone, 
Of  solace  bereft,  save  to  weap  and  to  moan. 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  53 

The  deer  on  the  hillside  caressingly  bleat, 

And  offer  the  grass  for  their  young  ones  to  eat. 

While    birds   of   the   air   to   their   nestlings    bring    meat, 

But  I,  a  poor  orphan  must  ever  remain, 

My  heart  still  so  sad  and  all  burdened  with  pain, 

For  him  I  shall  never  see  coming  again. 

'Tis  a  well-worn  old  saying,  which  all  men  allow, 

*  That  grief  stamps  the  deepest  of  lines  on  the  brow.' 

Alas,  see  my  hair!  it  is  silvered  now. 

Alas  for  my  father,  cut  off  in  his  pride ! 

Alas,  that  no  more  I  may  stand  by  his  side. 

Oh,  where  were  the  gods,  when  that  noble  man  died?  " 

Ching  Fo  was  so  pleased  to  hear  her  repeat  the  whole 
poem  without  a  mistake,  and  with  so  much  feeling,  that 
he  pressed  her  little  brown  hand  to  his  face,  at  which  Ah 
Moy  begged  him  to  tell  her  a  story,  or  repeat  a  verse. 

So  he  sat  down  beside  her  and  asked  if  she  had  not 
been  learning  to  weave  on  her  mother's  hand-loom  that 
day. 

"  Yes,  father,  I  have  unwound  a  cocoon  of  the  wild  silk 
worm  and  woven  it  into  cloth.  But  mamma  says  that  I 
must  not  yet  attempt  the  fine  silk  of  our  own  cocoonery." 

"  Then  I  shall  tell  you  about  the  star,  Vega,  which  is 
personified  in  Chinese  literature  as  a  woman  engaged  in 
weaving  silk,"  said  her  father.  "  Vega  is  a  brilliant  white 
star  in  the  constellation  called  Lyra,  and,  on  the  seventh 
day  of  the  seventh  month  of  each  year,  the  heavenly  weaver 
leaves  her  loom  and  crosses  over  the  milky  way  and  comes 
in  conjunction  with  another  brilliant  star,  called  the  "  Bull- 
driver,"  and  together  they  throw  out  their  most  splendid 
rays.  The  story  typifies  the  earthly  marriage  which  has 
for  its  object  the  high  duty  of  parenthood.  When  you 
are  older  you  will  know  that  China  has  withstood  the 


54  AH  MOY 

shocks  and  ravages  of  time  better  than  any  other  nation, 
and  that  this  is  greatly  due  to  the  industry  and  home- 
staying  qualities  of  the  mothers.  Do  you  understand  my 
meaning,  daughter?  " 

"  Yes,  father  dear,  my  mother  and  the  nuns  at  the  mon 
astery  have  often  told  me  that  the  welfare  of  the  home 
lies  in  the  hands  of  the  women.  But  I  think  the  story  of 
the  heavenly-weaver  the  most  beautiful  one  I  have  ever 
heard." 

Such  confidences  made  Ah  Moy  and  her  father  very 
dear  to  each  other.  She  knew  that  she  was  betrothed  to 
Ting  Ho,  and  that  she  would  owe  to  his  family  her  un 
tiring  service;  but  she  had  never  seen  her  future  husband, 
and  her  heart  was  every  bit  her  father's.  Her  brother 
was  now  old  enough  to  tyrannize  over  her  and  in  many 
ways  to  command  her.  She  had  learned  to  treat  him  with 
ceremonious  respect,  never  preceding  him  into  a  room  nor 
partaking  of  food  until  he  had  been  served;  but  in  her 
heart  of  hearts  she  felt  that  hers  was  a  higher  mission  in 
life  than  his.  She  felt  that  he  represented  the  ancestral 
tombs,  while  she  represented  the  children  to  be  born,  and 
in  fancy  she  could  hear  their  voices  ever  counseling  her  to 
be  faithful  to  all  the  customs  of  their  native  land. 

Her  sisters  were  now  preparing  their  wedding  garments, 
for  they  had,  like  herself,  been  betrothed  in  childhood. 
Ah  Moy,  number  one,  had  been  betrothed  by  a  go-between 
to  a  young  man  who  lived  in  another  province.  Aside 
from  ascertaining  that  he  belonged  to  a  good  family, 
Ching  Fo  knew  little  about  him;  how  cruel  and  exacting 
he  might  be,  there  was  no  means  of  knowing.  Neither  did 
it  seem  a  matter  of  great  moment  to  him.  The  marriage 
was  in  the  interest  of  the  two  families,  and  this  was  the 
only  thing  to  be  considered.  "  You  must  have  no  opinions 
of  your  own,"  the  father  told  his  girls,  "  it  is  the  duty  of 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  55 

daughters-in-law  to  serve  the  families  that  adopt  them. 
Among  jour  wedding-gifts  will  be  the  customary  bottle 
of  jx>ison,  with  which  to  end  your  life,  if  it  becomes  un 
bearable;  that  is  the  only  proper  release  from  earthly 
troubles.  It  is  an  honorable  discharge,  and  does  not  dis 
grace  your  parents." 

The  girls  understood.  They  knew  that  the  new  home 
to  which  they  were  going  was,  for  better  or  worse,  with  no 
appeal  except  through  death.  But  even  so,  they  were 
very  happy.  No  knowledge  had  they  of  privileges  or 
rights ;  no  spirit  of  selfishness  had  ever  entered  the  calm 
repose  of  their  minds.  Their  wedding  garments  were  all 
cut  precisely  alike,  the  only  variation  being  in  the  decora 
tion.  Some  were  embroidered  in  butterflies  and  bamboo 
leaves,  some  with  dragons  and  lotus  flowers,  interspersed 
with  the  ever  present  plum-blossoms.  Twenty  pairs  of 
shoes,  twenty  pairs  of  linen  trousers,  two  wedding  dresses, 
silk  bedquilts  and  curtains,  lacquer  vases  and  porcelain 
bowls,  all  made  in  the  same  style  as  those  of  foremothers 
for  a  thousand  years  past,  were  the  essentials  of  their  outfit. 
Tedious  and  tiresome,  and  for  many  days,  the  work  had 
continued;  but  at  last  the  preparations  were  complete,  and 
the  servants  were  detailed  to  take  the  eldest  daughter  to  the 
home  of  her  husband. 

Before  she  could  depart,  however,  Chinese  etiquette  de 
manded  that  she  should  lament  for  a  week,  moaning  and 
weeping  aloud,  because  she  was  about  to  leave  her  father's 
house  and  take  up  her  abode  among  strangers.  It  was 
hard  for  the  happy  girl  to  lie  face  downwards  and  keep 
up  the  semblance  of  sorrow;  but  it  was  not  in  the  Ching 
Fo  blood  to  omit  any  of  the  ancestral  usages,  so  she  tore 
her  hair  and  assumed  a  sad  expression.  Each  day  found 
her  crying,  with  eyes  made  red  with  vermilion,  and  utter 
ing  words  of  endearment  for  her  family  and  friends. 


56  AH  MOT 

The  new  home  to  which  she  was  going  was,  as  yet,  a 
far-off  picture,  which  she  saw  only  darkly.  She  knew 
that  she  was  leaving  her  father's  house  to  enter  a  family 
whose  ancestral  line  was  as  jealously  guarded  as  her  own; 
but  she  had  no  idea  of  what  the  change  might  mean;  so 
she  cried,  according  to  rule,  until  the  appointed  day,  then 
smilingly  took  formal  leave  of  the  parental  roof. 

Beside  her  four  chair-bearers,  she  was  accompanied  by 
two  lantern-bearers,  two  men  to  run  ahead,  and  six  riki- 
sha  laden  with  her  effects.  She  was  very  timid,  for  she 
had  never  been  away  from  her  home  before;  but  she  bore 
up  bravely  and  "  kept  the  face  "  as  a  woman  should  do. 
The  etiquette  of  the  occasion  demanded  that  she  neither 
speak  nor  partake  of  food  during  the  journey,  so  she 
sat  tired  and  hungry  for  many  an  hour  while  her  servants 
rested,  or  slept  in  the  shade  of  wayside  trees. 

After  two  days  she  arrived  at  the  house  of  her  hus 
band's  family  and  found  the  incense  sticks  lit,  the 
parents-in-law  in  their  best  clothes,  and  a  feast  prepared 
for  many  guests.  No  lover's  greeting,  however,  was  in 
store  for  her,  nor  any  kindly  act  to  relieve  her  fatigue. 
Her  duty  was  to  wait  outside  until  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  then  take  her  place  beside  her  mother-in-law  and 
solemnly  perform  her  duties.  The  guests  came  in  swarms 
and  she  bowed  to  each  according  to  the  prescribed  rules. 
Sneering  remarks  about  her  feet  and  her  clothes  were  made, 
but  brought  no  frown  upon  her  placid  brow,  and  when 
some  one  threw  straw  upon  her  glossy  hair,  she  bore  it 
so  patiently  that  the  family  was  much  pleased.  For  three 
days  the  festivities  continued,  during  which  time  the  bride 
was  not  permitted  to  leave  her  post  of  duty ;  but  on  the 
fourth  day  she  was  formally  given  to  her  liege  lord,  whom 
she  now  beheld  for  the  first  time.  In  appearance  he  was 
far  from  what  she  had  hoped,  yet  she  received  him  with 


A  CHINESE  GIRL 


57 


the  calm  exterior  of  a  well-bred  Chinese  woman  and  went 
about  her  work  as  uncomplainingly  as  though  she  had 
selected  her  husband  for  herself. 

Two  years  after  this,  the  wedding  of  Ah  Moy  Number 
Two  occurred.  Like  her  sister,  she  had  been  betrothed  by 
a  go-between  and  went  a  long  way  from  home. 

Notwithstanding  there  had  been  no  rain  for  several 
months,  and  money  was  becoming  scarce,  the  same  elab 
orate  preparations  took  place  in  Ching  Fo's  house  that  had 
taken  place  for  Ah  Moy,  number  one.  Presents  were  ex 
changed;  parental  advice  given;  the  bottle  of  poison  put 
carefully  where  it  could  be  reached  —  in  case  of  need, — 
and  for  a  week  preceding  her  departure  the  weeping  and 
wailing  had  been  performed. 


VII 

^  £  T  ET  us  wait  before  giving  the  third  daughter  in  mar- 
-I— ^  riage,"  said  Chong  Fo's  wife  to  him  one  day. 
"  She  is  young  and  the  signs  point  to  a  period  of  dis 
tress." 

"  No,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  first  consideration  must  be 
given  to  the  great  things  of  life,  and  the  great  things 
are  the  settling  of  the  domestic  relations." 

"  But  if  the  drouth  should  continue  ?  "  questioned  she, 
with  womanly  anxiety ;  "  there  are  ugly  rumors  of  famine 
disturbing  the  neighborhood." 

"  If  the  drouth  continues,"  the  husband  answered,  "  we 
shall  bear  it,  I  hope,  as  patiently  as  did  our  ancestors. 
Drouths  have  always  come  and  gone.  If  this  one  con 
tinues,  why  then,  it  continues;  but  it  is  not  well  to  in 
vite  it.  Speculation  upon  misfortune  is  an  invitation  for 
it  to  come."  The  wife  said  no  more,  and  with  the  help 
of  the  youngest  daughter  they  continued  to  make  the 
pretty  clothes  for  her  wedding  and  to  lay  them  away  in 
readiness  for  the  day  of  her  going  forth. 

In  spite  of  his  habitual  composure,  however,  anxious 
lines  crept  across  Ching  Fo's  forehead.  His  rice-fields, 
that  were  wont  to  look  so  beautiful  and  green  beneath  the 
summer  sun,  were  now  parched  and  brown,  and  the  harvest 
was  withering  beyond  recovery.  Mile  after  mile  of  the 
marvelous  purple  that  characterizes  the  arid  atmosphere 
quivered  in  the  air,  and  the  mountains  became  apparitions 
that  angled  up  to  meet  the  unfailing  blue  of  the  sky. 
Occasionally,  at  mid-day,  a  high  cloud  lay  motionless 

58 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  59 

above  a  phantom  peak,  but  it  was  the  wool-white  cloud  that 
throws  no  water  down.  All  this  Ching  Fo  saw  with  the 
feeling  that  a  crisis  hung  over  him.  For  days  at  a  time 
a  psychic  strain  seemed  to  foreshadow  misfortune.  His 
wife  and  his  third  daughter  watched  anxiously  for  the 
cheerfulness  that  usually  characterized  the  father's  deport 
ment  ;  but  things  grew  worse  instead  of  better. 

Rumors  of  foreign  war  ships  gathering  in  the  ports 
spread  over  the  country,  and  as  Ching  Fo  looked  away 
into  the  purple  mist,  he  saw  a  new  apparition  take  its  place 
beside  the  one  called  Drouth,  an  apparition  no  less  terrible, 
whose  name  was  War. 

From  time  immemorial,  the  evil  spirit  that  dwells  in 
foreign  affairs  had  spread  dismay  among  the  people,  and 
now  it  threatened  to  tear  asunder  the  nation.  Ching  Fo 
seldom  mentioned  such  things  to  the  women  of  the  house 
hold  ;  but  he  felt  bound  to  explain  to  them  now  that  noth 
ing  could  be  so  fraught  with  harm  as  to  have  the  quiet  of 
their  home  broken  into  by  a  swarm  of  foreign  soldiers. 
Not  much  of  this  could  Ah  Moy  understand;  she  thought 
that  a  few  men  might  have  to  be  sacrificed  and  a  few  homes 
bereft  of  their  sons,  but  beyond  that  the  fears  of  her 
father  were  meaningless  to  her  and  failed  to  arouse  any 
thing  more  than  a  ripple  on  the  smooth  surface  of  her 
life.  She  continued  the  preparations  for  her  wedding, 
and,  when  the  week  of  lamentation  arrived,  with  a  pious 
sense  of  duty  she  laid  aside  her  work  and  assumed  the 
garb  of  sorrow. 

"  I  would  not  disgrace  my  family,"  she  said,  "  by  ap 
pearing  happy  at  leaving  home." 

So  with  loud  moaning  and  crying,  she  lay  face  down 
ward  on  the  bed  and  repeated,  as  her  sisters  had  done, 
"  Oh,  dear,  I  am  so  sad  because  I  am  about  to  leave  my 
father  and  mother  and  go  to  a  new  home.  Oh,  dear,  I 


60  AH  MOT 

must  now  leave  my  father  and  my  mother  and  go  to  the 
home  of  my  husband !  " 

But  the  God  of  Fate  had  it  written  in  his  book  that  the 
third  daughter  should  not  be  married. 

"  And  having  writ,  moved  on  — 
And  not  her  piety  nor  wit 
Could  lure  him  back  to  cancel  half  a  line, 
Nor  all  her  tears  wash  out  one  word  of  it." 

The  happy  days  of  lamentation,  during  which  she  cried 
outwardly  but  inwardly  was  full  of  joy,  brought  not  the 
wedding-day,  for  Ten  Wang  had  already  turned  the  river 
of  her  life  into  quite  another  channel. 

Shut  in  from  the  outside  world,  and  her  time  filled  with 
pleasant  duties,  the  bride-to-be  had  no  conception  of  the 
fact  that  over  China  a  storm  gathered  which  would  shake 
it  to  the  very  center.  A  more  prophetic  ear  than  hers 
might  have  heard  the  rumbling  and  a  more  prophetic  eye 
might  have  seen  the  darkness  that  was  settling  over  the 
land;  but  the  third  daughter's  heart  kept  the  even  tenor 
of  its  way  until  the  last  day  of  the  lamentations,  when  a 
sudden  crash  came  out  of  the  blue  that  turned  her  little 
world  all  upside  down. 

Sing  Lee  was  the  first  to  bring  the  news  and  inform 
Ching  Fo  that  his  son,  who  was  so  soon  to  be  a  bride 
groom,  had  been  called  out  to  fight  for  his  country. 

"  Pandemonium  is  loose,"  he  said,  as  he  slipped  into  a 
chair,  "  and  the  Righteous  Defenders  (Boxers)  are  pre 
paring  for  an  active  campaign.  The  foreigners  are 
again  trying  to  pluck  us  as  a  housewife  plucks  a  goose,  and 
we  must  drive  them  back." 

"  I  feared  it,  I  feared  it,"  said  Ching  Fo,  trembling  with 
emotion,  "  on  the  Yang-tse-Kiang,  it  is  the  English,  to  the 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  61 

north,  it  is  the  Russian,  while  on  the  coast  it  is  the  Ger 
mans."  At  this  he  groaned  aloud  and  added,  "  We  can 
not  endure  it,  we  cannot  endure  it ! " 

"  It  is  useless  for  us  to  tell  the  foreigners  that  what  the       I 
western  world  calls  prosperity  has  no  resemblance  to  our      / 
own  ideas  on  that  subject;  it  is  useless  to  tell  them  that  we 
do  not  wish  to  enter  the  turmoil  of  the  world.      They  can 
not  appreciate  our  love  for  seclusion,  and  reverence  for     / 
ancient  customs." 

At  this  moment,  Ah  Fat  arrived  and  informed  the  two 
men  that  the  Righteous  Defenders  *  were  gathering  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  that,  as  they  came  to  the  rescue  of  the 
country  without  compensation,  they  must  be  fed  and,  if 
need  be,  clothed. 

As  this  phase  of  the  case  came  into  Ching  Fo's  con 
sciousness,  he  sprang  quickly  from  his  chair  and  went  into 
the  open  court,  for  now  it  was  a  case  in  which  the  women 
must  be  consulted.  The  amount  of  food  which  they  could 
contribute,  and  the  number  of  charms  and  bandages  which 
they  could  prepare,  were  questions  which  belonged  strictly 
to  their  department.  As  he  turned  toward  the  kitchen,  he 
saw  that  the  street  was  full  of  wild-eyed  runners  and  that 
every  one  appeared  to  be  in  a  state  of  madness.  Gentle 
men  were  shouting  to  get  themselves  carried  hither  and 
thither,  and  the  poor  coolie,  finding  himself  belabored  on 
every  hand,  poured  into  the  din  a  constant  jabber  of 
dialect. 

At  the  back-gate  of  the  bungalow,  frightened  females 
were  holding  such  counsel  of  war  as  only  women  can.  The 
wife  of  Sing  Lee  had  been  among  the  first  to  arrive  and  had 
informed  Mrs.  Ching  Fo  of  her  son's  response  to  the  call 

*  The  Righteous  Defenders  are  a  body  of  young  men  called  in 
China,  "  Society-Men,"  who  meet  in  secret,  to  watch  and  if  necessary 
to  protect  the  homes  and  the  ancient  tombs. 


62  AH  MOY 

of  the  Righteous  Defenders.  This  meant,  of  course,  that 
the  young  folks  must  wait  for  a  more  auspicious  time  for 
their  wedding.  Ah  Moy  was  still  lamenting,  when  her 
mother  called  her  to  come  and  hear  what  her  prospective 
mother-in-law  had  to  say.  Before  she  could  make  herself 
presentable,  however,  a  dozen  more  women  had  invaded  the 
kitchen  and  were  expressing  their  opinions  concerning  the 
uprising. 

"  It  is  all  the  missionaries,"  said  one  woman,  "  they 
have  made  the  spirits  angry.  Do  you  know  they  sell  coal 
oil  to  be  used  in  the  lamps.  Everybody  knows  that  our 
ancestors  never  used  anything  but  nut  oil  on  the  shrines." 
"  Yes,"  said  Lee  Loy,  "  and  the  missionaries  build  their 
houses  without  any  regard  to  the  Wind  god.  That  is  an 
other  thing  that  makes  the  spirits  angry." 

Just  then  a  wrinkled  old  woman  was  helped  to  her  feet 
and  gave  it  as  her  opinion  that  there  were  worse  things 
than  the  missionaries  or  the  coal  oil.  "  The  railroads  are 
creeping  into  the  country,  and  they  do  say  that  they  lay 
their  foundations  on  children's  bones ! " 

"  Yes,"  cried  another  of  these  wise  ones,  "  and  they  do 
say  that  the  foreign  devils  use  children's  eyes  in  making 
their  medicines." 

Then  Mrs.  Ching  Fo  added  fuel  to  the  fire  by  remark 
ing  that  the  foreign  bible  commanded  men  to  leave  father 
and  mother  and  follow  Christ,  "  which,  as  you  all  know,  is 
in  direct  conflict  with  the  teaching  of  Confucius.  It  is 
against  the  custom  of  the  country  for  sons  to  leave  their 
parents." 

This  speech  produced  such  a  storm  of  disapprobation 
that  when  Ching  Fo  appeared  on  the  scene,  he  could  not 
make  himself  heard  at  all.  He  stood  for  some  moments 
waiting  for  the  babble  to  cease ;  then  took  the  wonder-eyed 
Ah  Moy  by  the  hand  and  returned  to  the  front  room. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  63 

"  The  women  are  swarming,"  he  said,  "  and  I  was  not 
able  to  get  a  hearing.  When  they  settle  down  a  little, 
I  will  go  back  and  see  what  can  be  done  about  food." 

So  chattered  the  women  and  so  argued  the  men,  and 
so  gathered  the  storm  which  was  about  to  break  over  their 
defenseless  heads.  The  third  daughter  listened  and  tried 
to  grasp  the  meaning  of  what  she  saw  and  heard;  tried  to 
understand  why  the  men  stood  in  knots  on  the  streets  and 
why  the  faces  of  the  women  were  pallid  with  fear.  As  she 
saw  the  fire  creep  into  the  calm  eye  of  her  father,  a  great 
desire  seized  her  to  become  a  part  of  the  wild  ocean  that 
was  lashing  itself  into  foam.  If  martyrs  were  needed,  why 
might  she  not  be  one? 

When  a  lull  in  the  conversation  gave  her  an  opportunity, 
she  whispered  into  the  ear  of  her  father  her  desire  to  help 
her  country.  But  her  patriotism  received  a  check  when 
he  answered, 

"  A  little-foot  girl  can  do  nothing.     You  must  wait." 

At  which  Ah  Moy  glanced  down  at  her  crippled  feet 
and  replied: 

"  Yes,  I  see,  I  can  do  nothing  but  wait." 

It  was  noon  before  any  definite  plans  had  been  fixed 
upon,  and  the  women  had  been  induced  to  set  about  pre 
paring  food  for  the  Righteous  Defenders;  but  when  once 
commenced  their  work  went  bravely  on.  Kettles  of  fluffy 
rice  stood  in  long  rows  and  pans  of  dried  mushrooms,  with 
inviting  squares  of  pork,  simmered  over  the  fire.  Band 
ages  with  which  to  wind  the  legs  were  prepared,  and  many 
a  good  luck  sign  was  stitched  upon  blouse  and  shoes. 
After  the  women  were  at  work  the  men  congregated  at 
"  The  Hall  of  the  Holy  Country  "  to  further  discuss  the 
situation  and  to  devise  ways  and  means  for  the  advance 
ment  of  their  cause.  Patriotic  pictures  were  hung  on  the 
walls  of  the  room,  and  mottoes  selected  from  the  writings 


64  AH  MOY 

of  Chinese  sages,  were  repeated,  or  written  by  skillful 
hands  on  the  doors  and  lintels.  The  Righteous  Defenders 
gathered  in  long  lines  to  practice  their  mysterious  drills 
and  to  turn  their  faces  to  the  north  for  courage  and  to  the 
east  for  spiritual  enlightenment.  They  also  invoked  the 
gods  and  the  spirits  of  their  ancestors.  Ting  Ho,  the  be 
trothed  of  Ah  Moy,  number  three,  was  with  them,  the  em 
bodiment  of  a  superstitious  Chinaman,  calm,  head  erect, 
ceremoniously  polite,  without  a  flicker  of  emotion  in  his 
black  eyes,  although  he  had  sprung  from  home  and  wed 
ding  feast  into  the  welter  of  war.  On  his  blouse  was 
embroidered  that  great  symbol  of  purity,  the  lotus. 
Placed  there  by  a  virtuous  mother,  he  held  it  as  a  sacred 
trust,  and  as  security  that  no  evil-desire  should  enter  his 
soul.  As  he  marched  around  the  hall  in  line  with  his  com 
rades,  he  lit  an  incense  stick  and  reverently  placed  it  in 
the  ashes  before  the  White  Tiger,  then  wheeled  and  stood 
erect  beside  his  companions-in-arms. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  old  men  came  in,  one  by 
one,  to  give  counsel  and  speak  words  of  encouragement. 
Leaning  heavily  upon  a  walking  stick,  Tin  Sing,  a  man  of 
great  age,  pointed  to  a  motto  on  the  wall,  which  read, 
"  The  strong  shall  not  prevail,"  and  in  courteous  language 
called  the  attention  of  the  young  soldiers  to  the  fact  that 
they  were  members  of  an  ancient  order,  which  had  from 
time  immemorial  sprung  to  the  defense  of  the  country  in 
time  of  need.  He  reminded  them  that  only  men  of  un 
spotted  reputation  were  eligible  to  their  ranks,  and  urged 
them  to  remember  that  they  were  protected  by  the  gods. 

"  It  is,"  said  he,  "  one  of  the  oldest  traditions  of  China 
that  the  weak  may  overthrow  the  strong.  You  are  not 
training  for  public  audiences  or  for  display,  but  for  a  sys 
tem  of  self-defense,  in  the  most  exact  sense  of  the  term.  If 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  65 

you  are  true,  there  will  come  a  power  from  Heaven  to 
turn  away  the  bullets  of  your  adversaries.  The  gods  are 
with  you,  and  you  need  not  fear.  We  look  to  you  for 
protection  against  an  enemy  who  comes  to  despoil  us  of 
our  homes.  It  is  armed  with  prodigious  weapons  of  de 
struction,  but  you  have  recourse  to  a  higher  power." 

When  he  had  finished  speaking,  the  young  soldiers 
bowed,  retreated  three  steps  and  bowed  again,  then  wheeled 
and  assumed  a  respectful  attitude  toward  Ching  Fo,  who 
now  began  to  speak.  His  voice  came  forth  in  the  gentle 
tones  of  a  man  of  sorrow ;  he  disclaimed  the  honorable  years 
and  the  eloquence  of  the  distinguished  man  who  had  pre 
ceded  him,  but  he  arose  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
Righteous  Defenders  to  the  fact  that  concessions  granted 
to  foreigners,  either  for  purposes  of  trade  or  for  religious 
propaganda,  had  always  resulted  in  the  setting  up  by  the 
newcomers  of  claims  adverse  to  the  wishes  of  the  Chinese 
people. 

"  China,"  declared  he,  "  has  no  need  of  the  outside 
world.  When  once  the  reins  are  relaxed  and  the  Western 
civilization  established  in  our  land,  the  end  is  in  sight. 
Our  people  cannot  make  a  living  under  the  foreigners* 
system.  The  labor-saving  machines,  of  which  they  boast 
so  much,  are  not  suited  to  our  needs.  Our  country  is  too 
densely  populated  to  make  use  of  steam  and  electricity. 
It  has  already  come  to  pass,"  exclaimed  he,  raising  his 
voice,  "  that  the  cotton  mills  of  Shanghai,  which  are  owned 
and  operated  by  Englishmen,  have  flooded  the  market  with 
goods  which  are  sold  at  prices  below  those  of  our  home 
weavers,  and  the  result  is  that,  in  some  cases,  the  little 
hand-looms  of  the  women  are  idle  and  the  workers  are  dying 
of  hunger.  But  these  facts  are  nothing  to  the  foreign 
devil  who  wishes  to  establish  himself  in  our  country.  It 


66  AH  MOY 

must  come  that  we  shall  drive  the  horde  of  intruders 
back." 

Following  him,  Ah  Fat  made  a  short  but  eloquent  ad 
dress.  He  quoted  the  words  of  the  sage  who  said: 

"  All  the  black-haired  men  are  brethren,  and  they  shall 
prevail  against  the  barbarians  who  come  from  other  lands. 
Destiny  has  watched  over  you  and  prepared  you  for  this 
day.  The  God  of  War  is  with  you,  and  you  may  com 
mand  the  hosts  of  heaven.  Let  them  thunder,  with  their 
death-dealing  inventions!  Yours  is  the  greater  force! 
Consider  only  this, —  that  a  holy  cause  confronts  a  huge 
and  many-tongued  intruder,  who  will,  if  not  driven  back, 
despoil  us  of  our  homes." 

When  he  had  concluded,  the  Righteous  Defenders  again 
bowed,  and  marched  around  the  building,  placing  incense- 
sticks  before  each  mystic  shrine ;  then  passed  out  in  single 
file  to  the  place  assigned  them  for  the  night. 

Poor  Ting  Ho,  the  son  to  whom  his  father  looked  for 
support  in  his  declining  years  was  even  now  fading  from 
sight.  Ignorant  of  the  outer  world,  and  with  the  super 
stitions  of  his  ancestors  strong  upon  him,  he  fearlessly 
took  up  his  country's  cause,  depending  upon  the  spirits  of 
his  ancestors  to  protect  him  against  an  enemy  equipped 
with  modern  shot  and  shell. 

For  a  few  days  the  women  worked  busily  to  prepare  such 
articles  as  would  be  of  use  to  the  men  on  their  march; 
money  was  contributed,  and  a  few  old  guns  were  collected. 
Ah  Moy's  willing  hands  helped  with  the  clothing  and  other 
accessories  of  the  soldier's  kit,  and  then  she  stood  with  the 
married  women  and  watched  her  betrothed  march  away. 

A  few  tears  shed  in  solitude,  a  little  poem  to  commem- 
morate  the  heroism  of  Ting  Ho,  and  a  perceptible  shadow 
in  her  dark  eyes,  were  all  that  told  the  story  of  the  third 
daughter's  wedding,  for  she  was  too  well-grounded  in 


A  CHINESE  GIRL 


67 


Chinese  etiquette  to  exhibit  any  outward  signs  of  grief  or 
sorrow.* 

"  Duty,"  she  said  to  her  father,  "  is  the  first  law  of 
Buddha,  and  I  am  content  to  leave  events  with  heaven." 

She  had  not  even  been  permitted  to  feel  the  thrill  of 
her  lover's  hand,  as  he  passed  her  father's  gate  to  join 
the  main  army,  which  lay  two  hundred  miles  away. 


*  In  the  literature  of  China,  heroines  are  seldom  depicted  as 
charmers  of  men,  or  as  languishing  for  love,  but  rather  as  obedient 
daughters  who  are  willing  to  sacrifice  their  lives  for  duty. 


VIII 

AFTER  the  excitement  attendant  upon  the  uprising 
of  the  Righteous  Defenders  was  over,  Ching  Fo 
turned  his  attention  to  the  drouth,  which  was  now  bearing 
down  upon  him  with  all  the  fury  of  an  angry  god.  He 
consulted  an  astrologer  and  learned  from  him  that  the 
planets  prognosticated  plagues,  and  other  occurrences, 
which  bring  distress  upon  men.  This  so  alarmed  him  that 
he  lighted  fires  of  camomile  and  wormwood  before  his  house, 
and  contributed  much  of  his  reserve  supplies  to  the  poor. 
He  looked  anxiously  upon  his  wife  and  third  daughter, 
knowing  full  well  that  if  they  should  be  obliged  to  flee 
to  a  more  favorable  locality  their  crippled  feet  would  place 
them  at  a  great  disadvantage.  In  this  state  of  anxiety  a 
month  slipped  away,  but  still  there  was  no  rain.  The 
priests,  seeing  the  need  of  assuaging  the  fears  of  the  peo 
ple,  had  appointed  a  festival  to  the  rain  god.  Ah  Moy's 
nimble  fingers  were  the  first  to  begin  sewing  together  the 
many-colored  pieces  of  silk  with  which  to  honor  the  great 
Dragon.  This  work  occupied  the  women  of  the  neigh 
borhood  for  several  days.  When  all  was  ready,  a  party 
of  coolies  came  down  the  hill  bearing  an  odd  skeleton,  made 
of  hoops  and  bamboo  and  pumpkin  eyes,  over  which  the 
silken  skin  was  drawn.  From  the  godown  Ching  Fo 
brought  paint :  red,  green,  and  yellow,  with  which  to  touch 
claws  and  eyes  and  gills,  and  when  it  was  finished  the  rain 
Dragon  was  one  riotous  glare  of  color. 

As  the  pious  laborers  raised  it  to  their  shoulders,  Ah 
Moy  felt  sure  that  the  drouth  would  now  be  broken,  but 

68 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  69 

although  the  festival  lasted  several  days,  no  sign  of  rain 
appeared,  and  the  priests  decided  upon  a  crusade  through 
the  famine-stricken  district.  To  this  pilgrimage  Ching 
Fo  contributed  his  much-beloved  son,  who,  with  two  hun 
dred  other  lads,  repaired  to  the  temple  to  pray  and  scourge 
themselves  in  preparation  for  the  event.  They  wore  ashen- 
colored  garments,  fastened  with  yellow  sashes,  in  the  ends 
of  which  were  points  of  iron,  to  strike  against  their  legs 
and  keep  the  wounds  already  made  open  and  bleeding. 
Incense  and  magnificent  banners  of  silk  and  gold  were 
carried  before  the  procession,  and  their  entrance  into  each 
village  was  welcomed  by  the  ringing  of  bells  and  the  burn 
ing  of  paper  money.  As  they  passed  from  place  to  place, 
the  people  vied  with  each  other  in  works  of  charity  and 
good-will ;  gold  and  precious  stones  were  contributed  to 
the  priests  in  such  quantity  that  they  became  a  burden. 
For  forty  days  the  crusaders  kept  moving  throughout  the 
province,  praying  and  casting  out  devils;  but  the  sky 
remained  as  blue  and  the  sun  shone  as  fiercely  as  when  they 
started. 

The  question  of  food  along  their  line  of  march  was  al 
ready  acute,  and  the  stench  of  dead  bodies  arose  from 
many  houses.  The  scarcity  of  water  was  augmented  by 
reports  that  some  of  the  springs  had  been  poisoned,  and, 
taking  it  all  in  all,  the  crusade  was  abandoned. 

By  this  time  Ching  Fo's  estate  had  suffered  greatly, 
from  the  horde  of  Righteous  Defenders,  who,  unfed,  un 
paid,  but  strong  in  the  faith  that  it  was  their  mission  to 
save  China,  went  swarming  over  the  land,  consuming  what 
soever  they  could  find  to  support  life. 

Ah  Moy  waited  in  primitive  fashion  for  news  of  her 
lover, —  but  she  had  no  possible  means  of  knowing  what 
had  befallen  him.  Stories  of  the  awful  instruments  of  de 
struction  that  the  foreign  devils  knew  how  to  use,  some- 


70 

times  reached  her  ears,  and  stories  of  battles,  in  which 
many  of  the  defenders  had  been  killed,  crept  from  house  to 
house. 

In  this  way,  the  days  slipped  by,  and  still  there  were  no 
signs  of  rain.  Time  and  time  again,  had  Ching  Fo 
yielded  up  the  food  that  he  had  reserved  for  his  own 
family,  and  time  and  time  again  had  he  divided  his  sup 
plies  with  his  suffering  neighbors,  until  now  he  was  con 
vinced  that,  in  order  to  save  the  lives  of  his  wife  and  chil 
dren  he  must  flee  from  his  famine-stricken  home.  To  do 
so,  the  open  road  was  his  only  resort.  The  water  in  the 
creek  was  too  low  to  admit  of  using  a  boat;  his  money 
was  gone  and  his  servants  had  long  since  been  permitted  to 
scatter,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  save  themselves  from  star 
vation. 

His  son  had  returned  from  the  crusade  discouraged  and 
suspicious,  and  everything  seemed  to  indicate  that  great 
trouble  was  in  store  for  Ching  Fo  and  his  family.  In  the 
rarefied  air,  the  mirage  shimmered  in  horrid  mockery  of 
water,  and  the  softest  gauze  lay  fairy-like  over  the  gaunt 
wolf  of  hunger  and  despair. 

The  father  now  called  his  wife  and  explained  to  her  that 
their  only  hope  was  to  flee  from  their  home  and  go  out  in 
search  of  a  more  favored  locality. 

"  Most  of  our  neighbors  have  already  gone,"  he  said, 
"  and  it  is  hoping  against  hope  for  us  to  remain  here 
longer,  so  now  I  command  you  to  prepare  for  the  journey. 
Gather  into  bundles  a  change  of  raiment  and  a  few  utensils 
for  cooking,  and  let  us  start  as  soon  as  possible." 

No  time  was  left  to  ponder  over  the  case,  for  "  He  who 
feeds  the  ravens  "  had  not  fed  them  that  morning.  It  was 
a  trying  hour  for  Ching  Fo,  for  he  saw  not  only  his  starv 
ing  family,  but  he  felt  what  unsuspected  dens  of  doubt 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  71 

were  lurking  in  his  own  heart.  As  he  beheld  the  scene  of 
desolation  about  him,  there  seemed  to  him  no  God,  no  jus 
tice,  no  hope.  Neither  the  young  nor  the  old,  neither  the 
brave  nor  the  beautiful,  were  spared,  and  he  questioned 
how  worthy  of  worship  was  He  who  permitted  such  things 
to  be.  Ah  Moy  noticed  the  agony  in  her  father's  face  and 
clasped  him  in  her  arms,  while,  for  one  brief  moment,  their 
tears  mingled. 

Ching  Fo  clothed  himself  for  the  journey  in  a  heavy  silk 
tunic,  with  strong  linen  trousers.  Under  the  tunic  he 
buckled  a  girdle  to  which  was  attached  his  tobacco  pouch 
and  a  pocket  for  money,  both  of  which  were  pathetically 
empty.  On  his  right  side,  in  a  leather  shield,  he  fastened 
a  knife,  which  was  a  family  heirloom.  Could  it  have 
spoken,  it  might  have  told  of  savage  heroism  practised 
in  the  past, —  a  heroism  that  feared  not  to  spill  blood, 
if  occasion  required  it.  Even  little  Ah  Moy  knew  the 
etiquette  of  the  Oriental  suicide  down  to  its  minutest  detail. 

Ching  Fo  drew  the  knife  from  its  case  and  tested  its 
edge,  and,  as  he  did  so,  there  came  into  his  face  an  ex 
pression  of  great  firmness.  At  this  moment,  his  son, 
dressed  for  the  journey,  entered  and  took  his  place  beside 
his  father,  and,  when  the  women  came,  they  were  ready 
for  the  start. 

With  lowered  head,  as  one  who  sees  not,  but  goes  for 
ward  only  because  he  must,  Ching  Fo  turned  into  the  path 
which  led  toward  the  old  King  Shang  monastery.  Lead 
ing  his  family  out  of  a  famine-stricken  province,  with  no 
recourse  to  modern  methods,  was  a  repetition  of  what  his 
ancestors  had  done  in  generations  long  since  dead.  And 
so  Ching  Fo  wished  it  to  continue.  Steam  and  electricity 
he  regarded  as  innovations  not  for  a  moment  to  be  con 
sidered.  Along  the  creeks  in  their  little  boats,  when  the 


72  AH  MOT 

water  was  sufficient,  in  the  open  road  when  dust  and  drouth 
came,  were  the  methods  which  best  suited  this  son  of  an 
Oriental  civilization. 

"  We  will  make  straight  for  the  King  Shang,"  he  said 
to  his  wife,  "  and  from  there  we  may  hope  to  start  better 
prepared  for  our  flight." 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  King  Shang?  "  asked  his  son. 

"  At  least  ten  miles ;  but  with  patience  we  may  reach  it 
to-day,"  replied  the  father. 

"  My  feet  are  strong  from  having  gone  with  the  crusad 
ers  ;  but,  father,  can  mother  and  Ah  Moy  walk  so  far?  " 

"  It  is  hard,"  replied  his  father,  "  but  it  is  a  case  of 
necessity.  Left  here,  they  would  die  of  hunger,  or  per 
haps  the  foreign  soldiers  might  find  them,  in  which  case 
no  true  Chinese  woman  would  be  willing  to  live." 

"  Oh,  father,  let  us  wait !  Already  mother  and  sister 
are  far  behind,"  exclaimed  the  son,  looking  anxiously  back. 

"  We  will  go  to  yonder  wall,"  said  Ching  Fo,  "  for  just 
there  I  see  an  old  bamboo  tree,  at  the  roots  of  which  there 
may  be  young  shoots.  If  we  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  some,  they  will  relieve  us  of  hunger  and  give  us  new 
strength." 

The  two  quickened  their  pace  under  the  inspiration  of  a 
light  breakfast,  and  were  rewarded  by  finding  a  number 
of  young  shoots  that  were  tender  and  delicious. 

Ching  Fo  threw  the  bundle  from  his  back  and  took  from 
it  a  small  kettle,  into  which  he  put  the  sprouts,  and  by 
the  time  the  mother  and  daughter  came  up,  he  had  ready 
a  light  repast.  It  was  a  spare  breakfast,  after  a  long 
walk ;  but  it  gave  them  courage  to  go  on  and  to  trust  Ten 
Wang  to  bring  them  safely  to  the  end  of  the  day. 

Refreshed  by  the  food,  Ah  Moy  and  her  mother  pressed 
forward  through  the  burning  sand  in  a  brave  effort  to  keep 
up  with  the  men.  They  spoke  but  little,  but,  hand  in 


"  Buzzards  in  solemn  inquest." 


74  AH  MOY 

hand,  faced  hardships  that  would  discourage  less  coura- 
geaus  spirits.  As  the  sun  grew  hotter,  they  suffered  ter- 
ribly  with  their  feet,  but  in  their  faces  was  the  look  of 
stolid  endurance,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  Chinese 
woman. 

Occasionally  the  little  party  fell  in  with  some  one  going 
their  way,  but  for  the  most  part  the  country  was  de 
serted.  Starving  dogs  glared  at  them  as  they  passed, 
and  buzzards  sat  in  solemn  inquest  over  the  bleaching 
bones  of  the  victims  of  the  drouth.  So  the  day  passed, 
and  as  the  mists  of  evening  began  to  gather  over  the  dis 
tant  mountains,  the  old  monastery  came  in  sight.  Ching 
Fo's  trained  eye  was  the  first  to  catch  the  outline  of  the 
noble  building,  as  it  loomed  grandly  against  a  low  range 
of  foothills. 

"  Blessed  be  Buddha ! "  he  exclaimed,  turning  to  his 
wife.  As  he  glanced  back,  he  saw  that  Ah  Moy  was  pale 
and  trembling,  and  that  a  tear  had  left  its  mark  in  the  dust 
on  her  cheek.  The  sight  of  their  goal,  however,  encour 
aged  her,  and  she  made  renewed  efforts  to  keep  pace  with 
the  rest.  In  fancy  she  saw  Quan  Yin  (goddess  of  mercy), 
and  in  fancy  she  heard  the  bells  calling  to  evening  prayer. 
In  this  sweet  attitude  of  mind,  she  bore  her  sufferings  un 
til  they  all  stood  together  on  the  stone  steps  of  the  old  King 
Shang. 

"  Blessed  be  Buddha ! "  again  exclaimed  the  father,  and 
all  the  family  repeated  the  sacred  text.  When  they  had 
rested  for  a  few  moments  they  entered  the  heavily-timbered 
gateway  and  passed  into  an  avenue  lined  with  long  rows  of 
stone  lanterns,  which  led  to  a  small  temple,  and  thence 
to  a  priest's  house.  Ching  Fo  was  surprised  to  observe 
that  the  saucers  for  oil  in  the  lanterns  were  empty,  and  his 
hand  trembled  as  he  struck  the  old  bronze  bell.  An  aged 
priest  opened  the  door,  and  Ching  Fo  asked  with  great 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  75 

courtesy  whether  it  would  be  possible  for  him  and  his  family 
to  remain  within  the  walls  for  a  few  days. 

The  priest  raised  his  hand  in  token  of  welcome,  and 
then  took  down  a  bunch  of  keys  from  which  he  selected 
one  and  led  the  way  back  to  the  monastery.  As  he  opened 
the  door,  Ching  Fo  was  horrified  to  see  that  the  "  Merciful 
Hearer  of  Prayers  "  lay  face  downward  on  the  floor,  and, 
further  on,  the  Dragon,  so  lately  carried  by  the  pious 
laborers,  lay  broken  and  with  great  patches  of  its  silken 
skin  cut  away  by  sacreligious  hands.  These  sights  sent  a 
thrill  of  terror,  such  as  he  had  never  before  felt,  through 
his  heart.  He  turned  back  and  with  a  gesture  of  despair 
said  to  his  wife: 

"  Nothing  but  desolation  is  here,"  then,  turning  to  the 
old  priest,  he  asked  "  what  in  the  name  of  heaven  had 
caused  this  ruin?  " 

"  The  building  has  been  looted  by  the  foreign  soldiers," 
replied  the  priest,  "  and  everything  of  value  has  been  car 
ried  off." 

"  Is  there  no  rice?  "  asked  the  son  piteously. 

"  A  small  portion  of  rice,"  answered  the  priest,  "  shall 
be  yours,  but  beyond  that  our  shelves  are  empty." 

The  priest  then  returned  to  his  quarters,  and  with  his 
own  hands  prepared  a  bowl  of  rice  for  each  member  of  the 
family.  While  he  was  gone,  Ching  Fo  explored  a  little 
further  into  the  building  and  found  that  all  the  idols 
had  been  more  or  less  mutilated,  and  that  much  that  was 
sacred  had  been  carried  off  by  the  pillagers.  After  the 
priest  had  returned  and  they  had  eaten  their  portion  of 
rice,  they  gathered  a  hard  pillow  from  the  fragments 
about  them  and  law  down  to  await  another  day.  The  sun 
went  down  in  one  wild  welter  of  color.  Its  golden  rays 
crept  through  the  windows  and  tinted  the  walls  of  the  old 
monastery  with  the  richest  of  hues,  while  the 


76  AH  MOY 

"  Firefly  lovers  flew  over  the  wall 
Through  the  dim,  pathless  air,  to  a  firefly  ball." 

But  the  beauties  of  nature,  which,  at  another  time,  would 
have  given  Ching  Fo  and  his  family  intense  pleasure,  were 
now  lost  in  the  sadness  of  their  thoughts.  Hour  after 
hour  they  remained  awake,  trying  to  grasp  the  meaning  of 
the  woes  that  had  befallen  them.  At  last  the  children 
sank  into  the  sleep  of  the  tired  young,  but  into  Ching 
Fo's  wide  open  eyes  there  came  forerunners  of  the  darkest 
hour  he  had  yet  seen. 

Before  him  was  the  parting  of  the  ways.  His  son,  the 
protector  of  the  family  tombs  and  the  successor  to  his 
family  name  —  on  the  one  side,  while  on  the  other  was  Ah 
Moy,  the  idol  of  his  heart.  Between  these  two  he  must 
now  choose.  It  was  not  a  question  for  a  Chinaman  to  pon 
der  long  over,  for  with  the  money  he  might  receive  f or  his 
third  daughter,  he  could  remove  his  wife  and  son  to  a  place 
of  safety ;  and  when  the  Rain  God  saw  fit  to  pour  out  a 
sufficient  quantity  of  water  upon  his  parched  fields,  he  could 
return  to  his  home  and  continue  the  family  worship. 

He  knew  that  when  famine  held  its  deadly  sway  the 
slave  dealer  was  sure  to  come  to  purchase  the  fairest  girls, 
and  he  thought  in  the  agony  of  his  heart,  that  Ah  Moy 
ought  to  bring  a  large  sum  of  money.  She  was  old  enough 
to  be  immediately  available  for  a  wife ;  the  danger  of  foot- 
binding  was  past ;  her  education  was  properly  finished,  and, 
what  was  more,  she  was  very  beautiful.  These  were  the 
thoughts  that  haunted  the  father  and  drove  every  possible 
chance  of  sleep  from  his  eyes,  so  he  arose  and  went  out 
into  the  moonlit  garden. 

In  the  gray  of  the  morning  his  wife  joined  him  and 
there,  beneath  the  trees  made  sacred  by  the  worship  of 
ages,  that  grand  committee  of  two,  the  father  and  mother, 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  77 

unfolded  to  each  other  the  plan  by  which  they  hoped  to 
save  the  family  shrine. 

"  To  sell  the  third  daughter,"  said  Ching  Fo  to  his  wife, 
"  is,  indeed,  a  trial ;  but  I  fear  that  to  all  our  other  woes 
this  intolerable  one  must  be  added.  The  straits  into  which 
Ten  Wang  has  brought  us  compel  me  to  entertain  the 
thought." 

"  I  knew  it  before  your  honorable  speech  was  made," 
replied  his  wife.  "  If  it  must  be  so,  it  must  be  so,  and  the 
details  are  left  for  you  to  work  out.  Are  there  slave 
dealers  in  this  vicinity?  "  she  asked  sadly. 

"  I  presume  there  are.  They  usually  swarm  about  places 
where  men  in  financial  distress  are  to  be  found." 

"  But  what  if  Ting  Ho,  the  son  of  Sing  Lee,  should  re 
turn?" 

"  There  is  but  little  hope  of  such  an  event ;  for  during 
all  the  time  that  he  has  been  gone,  his  father  has  heard 
nothing  from  him,"  replied  Ching  Fo. 

A  long  conversation  followed,  during  which  neither 
uttered  a  sigh  nor  shed  a  tear.  But  the  deep  sorrow  they 
were  enduring  bowed  their  heads  and  furrowed  their 
brows.  When  the  sun  again  came  in  stately  splendor  over 
the  mountain  crest,  they  turned  their  faces  eastward,  hop 
ing  that  the  spiritual  enlightenment  which  come  with  the 
early  morning,  might  make  the  poor  world-fret  seem  a  little 
less  heavy.  After  inhaling  deeply,  Ching  Fo  arose  and 
went  into  the  monastery  to  see  Ah  Moy  and  determine 
whether  her  young  heart  would  be  able  to  bear  up  under 
the  ordeal  of  parting  from  her  family. 


IX 

WITH  slow  and  faltering  step,  Ching  Fo  approached 
his  daughter,  whom  he  found  seated  upon  a  bench 
at  the  side  of  the  monastery.     When  he  reached  the  spot, 
he  laid  his  hand  almost  reverently  upon  her  head,  and  said, 
with  painful  emotion. 

"  Daughter,  all  my  life  I  have  revered  the  gods  and  have 
believed  in  the  spirits  of  my  ancestors.  Yet,  at  this  mo 
ment,  I  can  see  but  one  malicious  monster  ruling  the  world. 
Driven  by  his  evil  hand,  I  am  compelled  to  say  that  while 
thou  art  my  beloved  daughter,  and  thy  mother  and  I  bless 
the  day  that  thou  didst  enter  our  unworthy  home,  I  see  no 
other  way  to  tide  over  the  distress  into  which  we  have 
fallen  than  to  sell  thee  to  a  slave-dealer.  I  have  not  the 
right  to  cut  off  my  family  line  while  a  female  child  can  be 
used  to  bridge  over  the  dilemma.  The  question  that  con 
fronts  me  now  is  that  of  saving  my  son  and  the  ancestral 
line. 

"  There  are  three  things  of  which  a  superior  man  stands 
in  awe :  first,  he  stands  in  awe  of  the  ordinances  of  heaven ; 
second,  he  stands  in  awe  of  the  words  of  the  sages ;  third, 
he  stands  in  awe  of  the  customs  of  his  ancestors.  All  these 
things  compel  me  to  protect  my  family  shrine.  To  do  so, 
thy  brother  must  receive  the  first  consideration.  It  is  to 
him.  that  we  look  for  the  preservation  of  the  family  tombs ; 
it  is  to  him  that  the  spirits  of  our  ancestors  look  for  the 
perpetuation  of  the  family  name." 

Thus  spoke  Ching  Fo,  and  right  royally  did  his  little 
daughter  answer  him: 

78 


A  sail  outside  the  wall. 


80  AH  MOY 

"  Father,  dear,  do  not  look  so  sad !  I  know  that,  hav 
ing  been  born  a  girl,  I  am  only  a  burden  in  such  a  time 
as  this,  and  whatever  you  think  best,  I  will  willingly  accede 
to.  It  is  ordained  by  the  gods  that  women  shall  be  slaves, 
and  I  may  as  well  obey  a  master  as  to  obey  the  mother-in- 
law,  to  whom  I  should  owe  my  services  had  I  been  married 
to  Ting  Ho.  Do  not  worry  about  me,  for  I  shall  go 
willingly  into  the  slave-dealer's  hands,  if  you  so  decide. 
I  know  that  you  can  get  money  enough  for  me  to  care 
for  mother  and  brother  until  the  rain  comes,  and  then  you 
can  go  back  to  the  old  home  and  live  long." 

The  courageous  spirit  of  his  daughter  saved  Ching  Fo 
much  of  the  sting  which  the  interview  would  otherwise 
have  given  him.  He  took  her  hand  and  together  they  went 
to  the  mother,  who  was  waiting  for  them  beneath  the  tree. 
For  one  sad  hour  all  three  sat  with  faces  to  the  east, 
enduring  silently  the  sorrow  that  had  come  to  them. 

In  the  still  air,  they  could  hear  voices  outside  the  wall, 
and  could  see  the  top  of  a  sail,  which  they  knew  must  be 
long  to  some  houseboat ;  but  they  were  too  much  absorbed 
in  their  own  affairs  to  wish  to  see  strangers,  so  they  went 
quietly  back  into  the  monastery  and  began  to  fold  the 
garments  they  had  worn  during  the  night.  When  they 
had  finished,  Ah  Moy  said,  pointing  to  the  idols,  "  Father 
dear,  may  we  not  go  around  the  room  and  repair  some  of 
the  damage  that  has  been  done  to  the  images  before  we 
go?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  it  is  proper  to  do  what  you 
can  to  that  end.  The  damage  done  by  a  barbarian  may 
be  repaired  by  a  woman's  hand;  but  the  barbarian  is  an 
object  of  contempt." 

There  was  bitterness  in  his  voice,  such  as  Ah  Moy  had 
seldom  noticed  before.  She  hesitated  a  little,  but  finally 
said  to  her  mother :  "  Shall  we  raise  up  the  blessed 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  81 

Buddha?"  "Yes,"  faltered  the  wife  of  Ching  Fo,  "we 
can  hardly  go  away  without  adding  a  little  to  the  restora 
tion  of  the  place."  They  raised  the  Buddha  and  then 
passed  over  to  the  virgin  mother.  The  lily  was  still  in  her 
hand,  but  her  face  was  turned  to  the  wall,  and  the  child 
which  had  lain  on  her  breast,  had  been  placed  beside  the 
God  of  War.  Ah  Moy  could  not  restrain  her  tears.  — i 
"  Tell  me,  oh,  tell  me,  mother,"  she  said,  "  why  it  is  that  / 

foreign  people  treat  our  sacred  symbols  with  such  con- / 

tempt?  " 

"  I  cannot  answer,  my  daughter.  All  we  can  do  is  to 
bring  the  infant  back  and  stand  it  beside  its  mother." 

They  turned  the  face  of  the  Virgin  about  and  carried 
back  the  child  and  were  proceeding  to  the  God  of  a  Thou 
sand  Hands,  when  they  heard  the  voice  of  Ching  Fo  call 
ing  then. 

"  We  must  go  now,  for  it  will  be  much  easier  if  we  walk 
before  the  heat  of  the  day." 

Thus  commanded,  the  women  left  the  broken  idols  and 
prepared  to  start. 

The  son,  although  he  had  lost  some  of  the  buoyancy  of 
the  previous  day,  took  his  place  beside  the  father  and  all 
was  ready  for  the  day's  journey  then,  suddenly  a  shadow 
darkened  the  doorway  and  caused  them  to  turn  in  that 
direction.  There  they  saw  a  Chinaman  sleek,  well-fed,  and 
wearing  the  regulation  suit  of  black  linen  that  proclaimed 
him  to  be  of  the  merchant  class.  He  shook  his  own  hands 
as  he  advanced  and  bowed  ceremoniously  low. 

"  Like  yourself,  honored  sir,  I  am  a  visitor  to  this  noble 
temple,"  he  said,  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  cast  a  searching 
glance  at  Ah  Moy,  which  so  angered  Ching  Fo  that  he 
replied  with  freezing  politeness: 

"  The  temple  is  before  you,  sir,"  and  immediately  passed 
on.  Seeing  that  the  little  party  intended  no  further  con- 


82  AH  MOY 

versation,  the  newcomer,  still  looking  at  Ah  Moy,  said: 

"  Honored  sir,  you  seem  weary  and  travel-stained.  May 
I  ask  from  whence  you  come  and  whither  you  go?  " 

"  We  have  come  from  the  Tien  Dong  and  we  go  to  the 
Shan  Tung  province,"  was  Ching  Fo's  terse  answer. 

"  Your  locality  has  suffered  much,"  said  the  stranger, 
"  our  country  is  beloved  by  the  gods,  if  we  may  believe 
that  old  saw  about  the  gods  persecuting  whom  they  love." 

"  The  gods,"  replied  Ching  Fo,  "  are  far  beyond  us. 
All  we  can  do  is  to  follow  a  line  of  duty  and  leave  events 
with  heaven." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  assented  the  merchant.  "  It  is  futile  to  at 
tempt  to  pacify  the  gods.  It  is  very  sad,  however,  to  see 
the  ruin  which  sacreligious  hands  have  wrought  in  this 
grand  old  monastery." 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes,"  Ching  Fo  answered  warmly,  "  I  know 
that  the  day  has  not  yet  come  for  the  brotherhood  of  men, 
but  it  does  seem  that  nations  might  abstain  from  high 
way  robbery  in  adjusting  their  differences." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  stranger,  "  the  despoiling  of  this 
place  was  entirely  unnecessary,  and  was  carried  out  with 
the  savagery  of  the  grimy  barbarian." 

"How  so?"  asked  Ching  Fo,  relaxing  his  cold  de 
meanor  and  showing  a  keen  interest  in  what  the  stranger 
had  to  say. 

"  I  chanced  to  be  near  here,  and,  in  a  measure,  to  be  a 
witness  of  the  fiendish  work.  My  houseboat  was  moored 
just  below  in  the  creek,  when  a  party  of  foreigners  sur 
rounded  me  and  demanded  any  information  I  might  have 
concerning  the  treasure  in  the  building." 

"  Ah,  indeed !     Then  you  were  really  a  witness." 

"  Yes ;  as  I  said,  chancing  to  speak  a  little  '  pidgin '  I 
was  put  upon  for  information.  Of  course,  my  knowledge 
of  English  failed  me  and  I  answered  all  questions  with  '  no 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  83 

savee,'  but  they  were  bent  upon  mischief  and  —  this  is  the 
result.  The  priests,"  he  went  on,  "  were  powerless,  and  as 
their  supply  of  food  was  limited,  they  fled  to  the  temple  of 
Ko  Shin." 

"  It  is  deplorable,"  remarked  Ching  Fo,  and  again 
attempted  to  throw  the  bundle  containing  the  family 
possessions  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Are  you  properly  equipped  for  your  long  walk  ?  " 
asked  the  stranger.  "  I  have  provisions,  and  to  spare,  in 
my  boat.  They  are  yours,  if  you  will  accept  them." 

At  this  Ching  Fo  softened  his  manner  a  little  and  asked, 
"  To  whom  am  I  indebted  for  this  kindness  ?  " 

*'  I  am  Quong  Lung,"  replied  the  merchant,  "  and  it  will 
give  me  pleasure  to  serve  so  noble  a  brother." 

The  faces  of  the  little  party  brightened,  for  although 
they  courted  hardship,  and  took  a  keen  delight  in  testing 
their  powers  of  endurance,  their  sufferings  had  already 
gone  to  a  point  where  the  ancient  spirit  threatened  to  give 
way. 

Quong  Lung,  seeing  that  they  were  willing  to  accept  his 
proffered  food,  clapped  his  hands  in  signal  for  a  servant 
to  come  from  the  boat.  In  a  moment  two  coolies  pre 
sented  themselves  and  their  master  instructed  them  to  bring 
abundantly  from  the  houseboat  kitchen.  The  coolies  has 
tened  back  and  soon  returned  with  bountiful  supplies. 

By  this  time,  Ching  Fo  suspected  that  his  benefactor 
was  a  slave-dealer  who  had  followed  him  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  advantage  of  his  distress. 

But  as  he  saw  the  wasted  figures  of  his  wife  and  chil 
dren,  he  threw  aside  his  scruples  and  squatted  with  them 
before  a  large  platter  of  rice. 

This  was  what  Quong  Lung  had  hoped  for,  since  he 
was  a  shrewd  enough  judge  of  human  nature  to  know  that 
business  progresses  better  on  a  full  stomach  than  on  an 


84  AH  MOY 

empty  one.  He  had  the  Chinaman's  patience  and  the 
f  Chinaman's  superstition,  and  while  he  waited  for  the  family 
to  finish  eating,  he  loitered  among  the  idols  and  lighted 
~  incense-sticks  or  threw  wads  of  paper  at  the  God  of  Good 
Luck.  After  the  meal  was  over,  Ching  Fo's  tobacco 
pouch  was  filled,  for  the  first  time  in  many  weeks;  water 
chestnuts  were  brought  in  from  the  boat,  and,  later,  tea, 
rice  wafers,  and  sweets  were  presented. 

Before  the  meal  was  over,  the  slave-dealer  joined  the 
group  and  for  half  an  hour  tried  to  adjust  himself  to  their 
society.  As  the  sun  crept  up  and  stood  directly  over  the 
old  Cryptomeria  tree,  the  two  men  strolled  out  and  sat 
down  beneath  it.  The  sunshine  glinted  through  the 
boughs  and  the  insects  droned  the  music  that  the  Chinese 
love;  but  in  the  shadow  beneath  the  tree  sat  a  shrewd  and 
prosperous  merchant  eating  out  the  heart  of  a  helpless 
scholar.  With  the  cunning  of  a  Jew,  Quong  Lung  beat 
off  the  shock  which  he  knew  would  be  given  Ching  Fo, 
if  he  boldly  opened  negotiations  for  Ah  Moy.  He  talked 
about  the  drouth,  the  chances  of  rain  and  the  foreign 
devils ;  but  did  not  mention  the  girl,  until  the  shadow  of  the 
tree  stretched  far  toward  the  east.  At  last  he  said  signifi 
cantly  :  — 

Your  daughter  is  a  very  beautiful  girl.  I  wonder  you 
have  not  married  her  before  now." 

"  She  has  been  betrothed  since  her  babyhood  to  a  son 
of  Sing  Lee,"  answered  Ching  Fo,  "  but,  alas,  her  intended 
husband  has  been  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  his  country." 

"  Well,  then,  it  is  no  more  than  proper  that  she  should 
be  given  to  another.  I  have  much  demand  for  girls  who 
are  of  marriageable  age.  Is  your  daughter's  health 
good  ?  " 

"  Her  health  is  excellent,"  replied  the  father,  "  my  fam 
ily  has  been  subjected  to  great  hardship  since  the  drouth 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  85 

commenced,  and  the  girl  looks  a  little  thin ;  but  with  proper 
food  she  will  soon  regain  her  flesh." 

"  Yes,  probably  so,"  assented  Quong  Lung,  "  but  you 
know  that  some  girls  grow  ill  and  faded  when  taken  away 
from  their  parents.  All  things  combine  to  make  invest 
ment  in  girls  uncertain.  If  I  could  be  sure  of  finding  a 
purchaser  for  her  very  soon,  I  should  be  glad  to  offer  you 
a  liberal  price,  but,  taking  everything  into  consideration, 
I  cannot  afford  to  pay  more  than  five  hundred  taels  for 
her." 

"  She  is  no  coolie,"  exclaimed  the  father,  angrily,  "  that 
is  no  more  than  the  price  of  a  common  coolie !  This  is  the 
daughter  of  Ching  Fo,  whose  name  is  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  province.  It  is  only  because  the  iron 
hand  of  necessity  is  upon  me  that  I  consider  her  sale  at 
any  price.  I  have  but  one  son,  kind  sir,  and  it  is  my  duty 
to  protect  him  at  whatever  cost.  You  are  certainly  aware 
that  such  girls  as  my  Ah  Moy  are  only  to  be  purchased  in 
times  of  distress. 

Quong  Lung  was  callous  to  the  matter  of  sentiment, 
however.  He  wanted  to  buy  the  girl,  but  he  wanted  her 
at  the  lowest  possible  price.  So  he  replied  very  care 
lessly  : 

"  Oh,  very  well, —  there  are  many  girls  for  sale,  and  my 
experience  is  that  they  are  usually  only  consumers  of  rice." 

Every  word  of  this  haggling  over  the  price  was  as  iron 
driven  into  the  soul  of  Ching  Fo.  He  knew  that  the  color 
would  come  back  to  the  cheek  of  Ah  Moy  as  soon  as  she 
had  plenty  of  food,  and  that,  under  favorable  circum 
stances,  she  was  very  beautiful  and  could  be  resold  at  a 
high  price  as  soon  as  a  favorable  locality  was  reached. 

"  What  is  the  good  man  and  the  just, 
Oftimes   a   pearl  that  none   doth  prize, 


86  AH  MOY 

Or  jewel  rare  which  men  account 

A  common  pebble  and  dispise. 
Set  forth  upon  the  world's  bazaar, 

It  mildly  gleams,  but  no  one  buys." 

quoted  Ching  Fo  from  an  old  poem. 

Brooding  thus  over  his  troubles,  Ching  Fo  let  the  day 
go  by,  and  when  it  was  nearly  dark  returned  to  the 
monastery.  His  wife  and  his  daughter  came  and  sat  be 
side  him  in  silence,  and  the  stars  were  twinkling  before  the 
family  lay  down  upon  the  hard  floor  to  spend  another 
night.  But  when  a  new  day  formed  in  the  east,  Ching 
Fo  faced  it  with  the  courage  of  a  man  who  has  gone 
through  the  deep  waters  and  found  a  landing-place  on  the 
other  side.  He  arose,  walked  firmly  to  the  bank  of  the 
creek,  and  motioned  Quong  Lung  to  his  side. 

"  It  is  useless  to  prolong  the  agony,"  he  said,  "  neither 
my  family  nor  myself  can  see  any  other  way  of  escape, 
and  it  were  better  that  we  close  the  cruel  transaction." 

Thus  ended  the  bargaining,  and  thus  the  daughter  of 
Ching  Fo  became  the  property  of  Quong  Lung.  The 
contract  was  drawn  up  by  the  slave-dealer,  and  so  cun 
ningly  worded  was  it  that  Ching  Fo  did  not  notice  at  first 
the  omission  of  the  usual  clause  which  provides  that  the 
slave  shall  not  be  sold  for  immoral  purposes.  When  he 
saw  the  defect,  his  blood  boiled  anew,  but  he  dared  not  ex 
postulate,  lest  Quong  Lung  should  take  advantage  and  re 
duce  the  price,  which  was  now  barely  sufficient  to  enable 
him  to  take  his  family  out  of  the  drouth-stricken  province. 

Under  these  circumstances,  he  signed  the  document,  and 
returned  to  the  monastery  to  inform  the  women,  and  to 
say  a  last  word  to  his  third  daughter,  from  whom  he  now 
expected  to  be  parted  forever.  Both  women  knew  by  the 
expression  on  his  face  that  the  moment  had  come,  and  both 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  8T 

struggled  bravely  to  conceal  their  emotions.  Ching  Fo's 
step,  as  he  advanced  to  take  Ah  Moy,  by  the  hand  and 
lead  her  to  the  door  where  Quong  Lung  was  waiting  to  re 
ceive  her,  was  that  of  a  man  grown  old  in  a  single  night. 

"  My  child,"  said  he,  "  you  must  go  with  Quong  Lung 
and  obey  him,  and  be  as  good  a  slave  as  you  have  been  a 
daughter.  The  most  painful  part  of  the  whole  matter  is 
that  I  have  not  been  able  to  secure  the  usual  clause  in  the 
contract  of  sale  to  protect  you  from  dishonor.  It  is  cus 
tomary  for  the  Chinese  slave-dealer  to  sell  his  young  women 
for  wives,  and  it  is  most  likely  that  some  good  Chinaman 
will  buy  you,  to  raise  sons  to  his  ancestral  line ;  but,  daugh 
ter,  there  is  a  possibility  that  it  may  not  be  so,  and  if  it 
comes  to  a  choice  between  shame  and  death  —  you  must 
choose  only  death." 

Saying  this,  he  took  from  his  girdle  the  knife  which  he 
so  valued  as  a  family  possession  and  handed  it  to  her.  Ah 
Moy  understood,  and,  without  hesitancy,  took  the  knife 
and  hid  it  in  her  sleeve.  Then  she  followed  her  father 
to  the  door,  where  Quong  Lung  received  her,  both  parents 
turning  their  faces  to  the  wall  as  she  was  led  down  the 
steps. 

Ah  Moy  bore  up  bravely  until  she  reached  the  plank 
which  led  from  the  bank  to  the  boat,  but  then  overwhelm 
ing  sorrow  swept  over  her  and  she  broke  into  a  fit  of 
weeping. 

"  It  is  another  cry-baby  that  he  has  bought,"  grumbled 
one  of  the  oarsmen,  glancing  at  the  distracted  child.  But 
Quong  Lung  spoke  kindly  to  her,  saying :  — 

"  Do  not  cry,  little  one.  Perhaps  I  shall  sell  you  to  a 
rich  mandarin,  who  will  give  you  plenty  of  clothes  and 
make  you  a  great  lady." 

But  the  third  daughter  of  Ching  Fo  was  too  unhappy 
to  be  elated  at  such  a  suggestion.  To  her  excited  imagin- 


88 


AH  MOY 


ation,  Quong  Lung  looked  as  pitiless  as  did  the  God  of 

War  in  the  monastery.     She  soon  recovered  her  composure, 

P  however,  and  true  to  her  Asiatic  training,  sat  down  and 

|   waited  patiently  for  whatsoever  might  be  the  next  step  in 

|  her  new  life. 


A  LTHOUGH  the  house-boat  of  Quong  Lung  was  built 
•^~*.  after  the  fashion  of  a  thousand  years  ago,  it  was 
staunch  and  strong.  Over  the  centre  were  ribs  of  bamboo, 
upon  which  was  stretched  heavy  canvas,  and,  higher  up, 
like  the  wings  of  a  great  bird,  was  a  sail  covered  all  over 
with  idiographs  representing  the  aphorisms  of  the  sages. 
There  were  comfortable  bunks  and  well-filled  cupboards  in 
this  land  and  water  caravansary,  and,  in  a  strong  box  be 
neath  Quong  Lung's  bed,  was  opium,  tobacco,  and  bottles 
with  foreign  labels  on  them,  for  the  slave-dealer  had  lived 
in  San  Francisco.  On  a  shelf  against  the  side  of  the  cabin 
was  an  image  of  the  river  god,  in  front  of  which  was  a 
bowl  of  ashes,  showing  that  incense  had  been  burned  there. 
Beside  the  fragment  incense  less  pleasant  smells  reeked  to 
heaven  —  bilge  water,  dried  fish,  and  sea-cabbage.  Some 
times  the  black  smoke  was  added,  but  this  was  only  when 
the  boat  was  stuck  fast  in  the  mud,  for  Quong  Lung  did 
not  let  pleasure  interfere  with  business.  On  the  bow  of  the 
boat  was  painted  an  enormous  eye.  What  it  meant,  Quong 
Lung  did  not  know,  but  it  was  a  good  luck  sign,  and  he 
believed  in  having  the  good  luck  signs  wherever  they  be 
longed.  For  the  three-toed  dragon  he  kept  a  cup  of  tea 
and  a  bronze  gong,  each  clang  of  which  was  a  signal 
for  an  offering  and  a  prayer.  At  the  stern  of  the  boat 
was  a  great,  bent-handled  sculling  oar,  which  was  manipu 
lated  by  coolies  stripped  to  the  waist.  On  occasions  when 
the  water  was  low,  however,  the  crew  jumped  overboard 

89 


90  AH  MOY 

and  pulled  like  horses.  The  foreman  differed  not  from 
the  rest,  except  that  he  wore  a  shirt,  and  stood  on  top  of 
the  bamboo  frame,  uttering  such  words  as  civilized  men  use 
only  toward  their  horses  when  the  wagon  is  stuck  in  the' 
mud.  He  also  shouted  warnings  to  other  boatmen: 

"  Don't  you  see  this  fine  boat,  all  you  little  mud- 
scrapers?  Get  to  one  side  or  I  will  run  you  down.  Hey 
there!  thou  son  of  a  louse,  clear  the  way,"  and  so  on. 
His  ability  to  intimidate  the  small-fry  constituted  his  chief 
value  as  an  overseer.  With  it  he  could  arouse  the  multi 
tude  that  swarmed  upon  the  water,  and  thus  get  room  for 
his  boat.  After  his  work  was  done,  however,  this  inde 
fatigable  foreman  squatted  upon  terms  of  perfect  equality 
with  the  rest  of  the  crew  around  a  bowl  of  fish  and  rice. 
Quong  Lung  commanded  better  food  —  such  as  pork,  and 
lily  bulbs,  preserved  ginger,  and  dainties  kept  under  the 
bed. 

Ah  Moy  soon  got  over  her  fright  and  was  timidly  pre 
paring  to  eat  the  food  which"  the  cook  had  sent  her,  when, 
to  her  surprise,  another  girl  rolled  out  of  a  bunk  and  came 
and  sat  down  by  her  side.  She  was  a  pretty  girl  with  a 
suspicion  of  waves  in  her  black  hair,  and  with  eyes  that 
looked  straight  into  the  faces  of  men.  All  the  girls  whom 
Ah  Moy  had  ever  known  had  been  taught  to  abstain  from 
raising  the  eyes  above  the  third  button  of  the  blouse,  and 
she  suspected  at  once  that  there  was  something  wrong  about 
her  young  companion.  Another  curious  trait  of  this 
strange-looking  girl  was  her  restlessness.  Ah  Moy,  in  her 
secluded  life,  had  met  only  girls  of  studied  repose  and 
passionlessness. 

It  was  a  sad  awakening  for  Ah  Moy  to  find  herself  in 
comradeship  with  one  who  bore  none  of  the  marks  of  the 
society  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed;  and  at  first  she 
felt  a  strange  reluctance  about  accepting  the  situation. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  91 

Happily,  however,  the  two  girls  spoke  the  same  dialect, 
which  fact  made  it  impossible  for  them  to  go  on  without 
such  friendship  as  springs  from  mutual  sorrow.  After 
a  few  days,  the  girl  confided  to  Ah  Moy  that  her  name 
was  Wing,  and  that  her  father  was  an  American.  Dur 
ing  a  period  of  drouth,  she  said,  her  mother  had  been  sold 
for  money,  to  keep  the  other  members  of  the  family  alive; 
and  to  tide  over  a  period  when  wives  were  scarce  the 
American  had  bought  her  and  installed  her  as  mistress  of 
his  house.  As  a  slave  she  served  him  faithfully  and  bore 
him  a  daughter,  but  when  his  wife  came  in  a  great  ship  from 
San  Francisco  she  had  carried  him  off  to  a  fine  house  on  a 
fashionable  street  in  Shanghai  and  they  saw  him  no  more. 
In  due  time,  Wing's  mother  found  her  way  back  to  the  \] 
parental  roof,  but  as  no  one  wanted  the  half-breed  child, 
she  had  been  given  to  an  old  woman,  who  raised  her  as  a 
servant.  All  this  pitiful  tale  Wing  told  between  hysterical 
burst  of  weeping.  Her  manner  astonished  Ah  Moy  even 
more  than  her  story  did,  for  demonstrations  of  grief  she 
had  seldom  witnessed.  Ah  Moy  soothed  the  girl  and 
combed  the  tangles  out  of  her  unkempt  hair,  telling  her  at 
the  same  time  about  Kali,*  the  mythical  mother,  who  tears 
the  hearts  of  her  children  only  to  prepare  them  for  her 
blessing. 

Wing  could  remember  her  father,  and  sometimes  told 
Ah  Moy  stories  of  his  wealth,  which  to  her  childish  mind 
seemed  fabulous.  She  often  expressed  a  desire  to  find  him 
and  to  live  among  his  people,  even  perhaps  to  marry  a  for 
eigner.  These  sentiments  of  the  half-breed  were  distressing 
to  Ah  Moy,  and  she  concluded  that  Wing's  heart  was  a 
sepulchre  haunted  by  phantoms  of  which  a  true  Chinese 
girl  could  conceive  only  in  the  vaguest  way. 

*  Kali  is  a  hideous  blue  idol,  who  stands  with  a  drawn  sword  in 
her  hand,  while  with  her  feet  she  tramples  upon  her  children. 


92  AH  MOY 

"  Tell  me,  dear  Wing,  said  Ah  Moy  one  day,  "  why  you 
talk  about  man  and  money  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  replied  Wing,  "  is  it  not  nice  to  have  riches  and 
lovers?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  returned  Ah  Moy,  "  these  are  strange 
subjects  which  I  cannot  understand.  Marriage  seems  to 
me  to  be  a  duty,  for  the  performance  of  which  the  parents 
will  make  arrangements  in  due  time,  and  any  love  not  sanc 
tioned  by  their  wish  or  any  love  in  which  the  mother-in-law 
is  not  entitled  to  the  services  of  the  daughter-in-law,  is  to 
me  a  puzzling  enigma." 

*'  Then,"  said  Wing  piteously,  "  it  must  be  the  foreign 
part  of  me  that  thinks  wrong.  My  mother  used  to  say  to 
me,  "  Wing,  you  belong  to  another  race ;  or,  Wing,  what 
strange  ideas  you  have." 

To  Ah  Moy,  the  subject  of  heredity  was  a  sealed  book, 
but  she  was  conscious  that  between  herself  and  Wing  was 
an  impassable  gulf,  that  grew  wider  as  they  ate  and  drank 
and  slept  together.  This  caused  her  deep  sorrow,  for  the 
circumstances  under  which  they  were  living  made  her  feel 
a  strong  desire  to  be  of  service  to  her  slave-girl  companion. 
How  to  accomplish  her  object,  however,  was  a  problem  that 
Ah  Moy's  young  mind  had  no  way  of  solving. 

Wing  felt  the  cloud  that  hung  over  her  and  made  pa 
thetic  attempts  to  overcome  the  peculiarities  that  Ah  Moy 
pointed  out  to  her;  but  she  was  burdened  with  f  impulses 
that  swayed  her,  even  as  the  wind  sways  a  young  and  ten 
der  plant.  Quong  Lung  understood  full  well  the  handicap 
under  which  Wing  labored,  and  felt  a  strong  dislike  for 
her.  "  She  is  a  typical  Eurasian,"  said  he  one  day  to  Ah 
Moy.  "  The  good  is  burned  out  of  her,  and  nothing  is 
left  but  the  ashes  of  sensuality.  I  bought  her  for  a  trifle, 
and  hope  to  get  rid  of  her  as  soon  as  we  reach  a  market." 

The  boat  had  now  worried  along  through  the  shallow 


A  CHINESE  GIRL 


93 


waters  of  the  creek  and  was  in  a 
river  with  a  strong  current  to  the 
south.  A  few  days  more  would 
bring  them  to  Shanghai.  There 
Quong  Lung  hoped  to  dispose  of  his 
cargo  and  then  return  to  the  famine 
district  for  other  chattels.  Wind 
and  weather  favored;  the  girls  were 
well-fed  and  everything  about  them 
a  miracle  of  beauty,  and,  except  for 
an  occasional  pang  when  they 
thought  of  home,  they  were  quite 
happy.  At  times  the  boat  lay  in 
shadowy  depths,  where  fish  darted 
gracefully  through  the  water;  at 
other  times  strange  birds  arose  with 
a  whirr  of  wings,  only  to  drop  down 
again  when  the  first  alarm  had  sub 
sided.  Along  the  banks  were  hud 
dled  houses,  with  no  visible  way  of 
approach.  Tall  bamboos  swayed 
gracefully  about  them  and  crooked 
paths  led  to  shrines  higher  up. 

In  places  acres  and  acres  of  duck 
covered  the  water,  while  the  Chinese 
husbandman,  sitting  idly  upon  the 
bank,  hearded  them,  much  as  the 
western  man  herds  his  flocks.  Some 
times,  as  the  houseboat  came  plowing 
into  sight,  a  shrill  whistle  from  their 
owners  sent  the  ducks  scrambling 
on  to  a  large  raft  near  by,  where 
they  sat  demurely  waiting  until  the 
danger  was  past. 


94  AH  MOT 

Again  they  saw  boat-loads  of  coffined  dead,  being  car 
ried  to  their  ancestral  tombs.  Accompanying  each  party 
were  hired  mourners,  and  priests  whose  yellow  robes  were 
dabbled  with  mud.  Upon  one  occasion,  a  fleet  of  tiny 
straw  boats  covered  the  water. 

"  I  must  tell  you  about  this  funeral  ceremony,"  said 
Quong  Lung,  as  they  watched  the  little  boats  float  by. 

"  Oh  do,"  exclaimed  the  girls,  "  for  this  is  the  most 
interesting  sight  we  have  seen  yet." 

"  Well  then,"  replied  Quong  Lung,  "  Hong  Fang,  who 
gives  this  celebration  in  honor  of  his  mother,  is  a  man  of 
great  wealth.  He  has  devoted  so  much  time  to  spiritual 
attainment  that  he  is  able  to  see  his  mother,  who  has  been 
dead  for  many  years.  Often  he  sits  alone  in  dusk  of  the 
evening  and  lights  the  spirit-recalling  incense,  and  slowly 
her  face  takes  shape  and  hovers  in  the  smoke ;  but  the  time 
is  nearly  ripe  when  her  spirit  must  go  into  another  sphere, 
and  she  will  no  longer  be  able  to  command  the  forces  by 
which  she  materializes;  so  he  gives  her  this  grand  celebra 
tion,  known  throughout  China  as  the  '  Ceremony  of  Fare 
well.'  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Ah  Moy,  "  I  have  often  heard  my  father 
speak  of  this  festival  and  call  it  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
known  in  China.  Is  there  not  a  written  message  in  each 
little  boat?  " 

"  Yes,  in  each  little  boat  there  is  a  scrap  of  paper, 
folded  with  ceremonious  precision,  upon  which  is  written 
a  message  of  farewell." 

Saying  this,  Quong  Lung  reached  out  with  a  bamboo 
pole  and  hooked  up  one  of  the  tiny  craft  for  the  girls  to 
examine.  They  were  greatly  interested  and  unfolded  the 
message  which  was  addressed  to  "  The  honorable  the  Em 
peror  of  the  Dead."  Inside  the  paper  was  written,  "  On 
behalf  of  my  mother,  greeting  and  much  joy."  Ah  Moy, 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  95 

as  soon  as  she  had  read  it,  creased  it  back  into  the  original 
folds  and  asked  Quong  Long  to  set  it  afloat  again,  saying, 
in  gentle  tones, 

"  It  might  grieve  the  spirit-mother  to  lose  even  this  one 
message. 

For  hours  the  little  boats  covered  the  water  with  their 
twinkling  lights,  but  by  morning  they  had  all  drifted  away, 
and  instead  of  a  funeral  cortege,  the  girls  now  saw  some 
rafts,  composed  of  bamboo  poles,  upon  which  sat  cormo 
rants,  looking  solemnly  into  the  water. 

"  Only  see  the  cruel  rings  around  their  necks,"  exclaimed 
Ah  Moy,  as  the  birds  twisted  their  heads  in  an  attempt  to 
throw  off  the  burden. 

"  The  rings  are  to  keep  them  from  swallowing  the  fish 
they  catch,"  explained  Quong  Lung,  "  there  would  be  no 
profit  in  keeping  them,  if  they  did  not  give  up  what  they 
take." 

"  Do  they  swim  under  water?  "  asked  Ah  Moy. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Quong  Lung,  smiling,  "  I  see  you  are 
fishing  for  another  story." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  more  about  the  queer  birds,"  re 
plied  Ah  Moy,  with  a  look  of  interest  in  her  face. 

"  The  cormorant,  as  you  see,  is  used  by  the  very  poor 
est  class  of  fishermen;  a  few  bamboo  poles,  strapped  to 
gether,  and  three  or  four  cormorants,  tied  by  a  string,  con 
stitute  his  stock  in  trade.  With  these,  and  a  basket  to  put 
his  fish  in,  he  is  ready  for  business.  The  birds  are  trained 
so  well  that  at  a  signal  from  their  master  they  glide  noise 
lessly  into  the  water  and  pursue  fish  and  eels  with  great 
skill.  'Do  you  not  see  the  flabby  stomach? 

"  That  is  a  sack  which  holds  more  than  you  could  believe, 
and,  sometimes,  the  bird  catches  so  much  that  it  is  full  and 
running  over  —  that  is,  it  is  stretched  as  tight  as  a  drum, 
and  the  tail  of  the  last  fish  protrudes  from  the  bill  of  the 


96  AH  MOY 

bird.  A  bird  that  does  such  work  as  that  is  worth  five 
or  six  taels.  See!  there  is  one  throwing  a  fish  into  the 
air!" 

"  Why  does  he  do  that  ?  "  the  girls  asked. 

"  Because  he  wishes  to  swallow  it  head  first.  If  he 
catches  a  fish  by  the  back,  he  throws  it  up,  and,  as  it  comes 
down,  he  takes  it  head  first,  else  the  bony  fins  might  scratch 
his  throat." 

"  But  do  tell  us  how  these  birds  are  caught,"  urged  Ah 
Moy,  still  anxious  for  the  story  to  continue. 

"  Oh  that  is  easy  !  the  eggs  are  found  by  people  who  deal 
in  them  and  sell  them  to  others  who  hatch  them  under 
hens.  The  old  hen  does  not  notice  that  the  eggs  are  green, 
or  that  she  is  sitting  a  whole  month  instead  of  twenty-one 
days,  but  patiently  clucks  and  waits  until  she  feels  the  little 
ones  squirming  beneath  her.  Then  the  housewife  takes 
the  brood  away,  to  be  fed  upon  small  pieces  of  fish.  When 
they  are  two  months  old,  their  education  begins.  A  string 
is  tied  around  one  leg  and  they  are  taken  to  the  water, 
where  small  fish  have  been  placed.  They  know  very  well 
how  to  catch  the  fish,  but  they  have  to  be  whipped  with  a 
bamboo  switch  many  times  before  they  will  give  them  up. 
It  takes  many  hard  lessons  before  they  can  be  trusted; 
but  in  time  they  learn  to  obey,  and  are  then  ready  for  four 
or  five  years  of  steady  work.  After  that,  they  become 
sulky  and  are  thrown  into  the  water." 

"  I  should  not  be  willing  to  torture  the  poor  birds  so, 
just  for  a  little  money,"  said  Ah  Moy,  with  a  perplexed 
expression. 

"  You  are  not  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  the  world,  lit 
tle  one,"  returned  Quong  Lung. 

"  No,"  replied  Ah  Moy,  "  I  am  only  accustomed  to  the 
ways  of  my  father." 

But  this  small  sally  changed  into  a  smile  as  she  saw  one 


A  CHINESE  GIRL 


97 


of  the  cormorants  break  his  chain  and  fly,  with  a  wild 
scream,  to  a  beetling  crag. 

Two  days  more,  and  the  boat  anchored  at  the  foot  of  a 
long  flight  of  stairs,  which  led  to  the  Azure  Pagoda, 
where  the  one  hundred  and  eight  fires  were  lighted  for  the 


-.^.^^  ~'  ,' -  —  :n— .  ._ r--^ 


The  cormorants. 


purpose  of  burning  out  the  one  hundred  and  eight  f  oolish 
desires  that  afflict  the  children  of  men.  As  Quong  Lung's 
cook  felt  the  need  of  prostrating  himself  before  the  idols 
and  leaving  a  small  offering,  the  boat  came  to  a  standstill. 


98  AH  MOY 

What  the  one  hundred  and  eight  foolish  desires  were, 
of  which  the  cook  wished  to  purge  himself,  was  not 
very  apparent,  since  his  clothing  consisted  only  of  a  pair 
of  trousers  and  his  food  of  rice  and  fish.  Yet  he  reli 
giously  placed  a  copper  coin  in  his  ear  and  waded  through 
the  mud  to  the  lion-guarded  steps. 

All  the  way  up  the  path  were  pretty,  patient  mothers, 
carrying  their  babes  to  be  purged  of  foolish  desires.  As 
the  cook  approached  the  sacred  landing,  an  outstander  in 
formed  him  that  he  could  not  enter  without  more  clothing. 
Nothing  daunted,  the  religious  cook  returned  to  the  boat 
and  happily  was  able  to  borrow  the  foreman's  shirt  and 
hat.  Thus  equipped,  he  was  allowed  to  enter  the  house 
of  prayer.  After  prostrating  himself  three  times  before 
an  image,  and  making  all  the  genuflections  required  by 
etiquette,  he  repaired  to  the  shrine  of  the  God  of  the 
Aching  Tooth ;  not  that  he  had  the  toothache,  but  since  he 
was  there,  he  would  appease  the  God,  lest  he  send  that 
painful  malady  upon  him.* 

It  was  before  this  idol  without  a  jaw  that  the  pious  cook 
met  some  other  boatmen,  who  invited  him  to  a  game  of  fan- 
tan  behind  the  temple.  The  game  was  followed  by  the 
"  black  smoke,"  and  in  the  wee,  small  hours  of  the  night, 
the  cook  found  himself  so  much  in  debt  that  he  was  obliged 
to  pawn  the  foreman's  hat  and  shirt  and  return  to  the 
boat  without  them.  This  arrangement  was  not  satisfac 
tory,  either  to  the  foreman  or  to  Quong  Lung,  who  gave 
the  cook  a  beating,  after  which  he  resumed  his  work  in  the 
spirit  of  a  man  who  has  enjoyed  a  holiday. 

Next  day,  the  boat  stopped  before  the  temple  of  Yuen 
Ti,  and  the  girls  were  anxious  to  hear  something  about 

*  It  is  said  that  in  one  of  his  incarnations,  this  God  suffered 
so  much  from  toothache  that  he  tore  off  his  jaw,  and  since  that 
time  he  has  had  power  over  this  ailment. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  99 

this  building.  Quong  Lung  told  them  the  story  of  the 
empress  Huang  Fi,  who,  more  than  four  thousand  years 
before,  raised  silk  worms,  and  was  afterwards  deified  and 
worshipped  under  the  name  of  Yuen  Ti.  So  careful  was 
she  of  her  silk  worms,"  said  Quong  Lung,  "  that  she  would 
not  allow  them  to  be  frightened  by  noise,  or  disturbed  by 
strangers  coming  into  their  presence.  The  empress  fed 
them  with  her  own  hands,  and  would  not  permit  a  withered 
or  dusty  leaf  to  be  given  them.  We  do  not  know,  now, 
whether  she  ate  her  pets,  but  the  chrysalides  are  used  as 
an  article  of  diet  among  Chinese  who  can  afford  such  lux 
uries."  Both  girls  laughed  at  this  story,  and  Quong  Lung 
seemed  as  much  pleased  as  they  were. 

So  passed  the  days  of  floating  and  rowing,  and  as  the 
girls  were  well-fed  and  contented  they  had  greatly  im 
proved  in  appearance  when  the  house-boat  of  Quong  Lung 
entered  the  wilderness  of  small  craft  that  swarmed  in  the 
vicinity  of  Shanghai.  There  was  a  gem-like  brightness 
in  the  eyes  of  Ah  Moy  and  warm  red  blood  in  her  cheeks. 
The  thought  that  she  had  saved  her  father's  family  from 
starvation  gave  her  a  consciousness  that  shone  in  her  face 
and  lightened  her  step.  Many  a  day  she  pictured  the  old 
home,  with  the  Rain  God  pouring  water  upon  its  parched 
fields,  and  the  lamps  again  lighted  upon  its  ancestral 
shrines.  She  was  glad  that  she  had  been  patient  enough 
to  listen  to  all  of  Wing's  visionary  conversation,  and  she 
looked  with  pride  upon  the  tell-tale  hair  which  she  had 
trained  to  lie  in  neat  coils  at  the  side  of  the  head. 

The  foreman  now  swore  more  than  usual,  and  the  crew 
drove  the  nose  of  Quong  Lung's  boat  into  the  smallest 
opening;  yet  it  was  two  days  before  they  pulled  up,  and, 
amid  the  clatter  and  roar  of  an  open  port,  the  little  party 
set  their  feet  again  upon  solid  ground. 

A  sheet  of  warm  mist  hung  over  Shanghai,  protecting 


100 


AH  MOY 


the  foliage  from  the  burning  sun,  and  making  the  gardens 
along  the  Bund  glisten  as  though  newly  varnished.  For 
eigners  from  many  countries  were  rushing  through  the 
streets  and  Ah  Moy  was  quite  frightened,  for  she  had 
never  before  seen  such  hurry  and  confusion.  As  com 
pared  with  the  repose  of  her  father  and  his  friends,  all 
these  strangers  seemed  like  madmen.  Crews  from  the  war 
ships,  clad  in  spotless  uniforms,  brushed  past  her,  and 
porters  wrangled  about  their  fees. 

"  What  has  happened,"  Ah  Moy  said  to  Wing,  "  that 
all  the  people  seem  so  excited?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  think,"  answered  Wing ;  "  it  seems 
to  me  like  a  fae-off  dream;  but  I  can  remember  how  my 
mother  used  to  say  that  the  foreigners  were  always  in  a 
hurry." 

"  And  they  look  so  angry,"  said  Ah  Moy ;  "  do  they  not 
keep  the  face?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Wing.  "  It  seems  like  very  long  ago,  but 
2)  I  think  that  part  of  me  which  is  American  belongs  to  this 
mad  rush.  Somehow  I  feel  used  to  it  already." 

"  And  what  are  those  red-turbaned  men  who  walk  up 
and  down  and  carry  knives  and  guns?  "  Ah  Moy  asked  of 
Quong  Lung. 

"  Oh,  those  are  Sikhs.  They  do  police  duty.  They 
are  the  men  who  capture  young  girls,  if  they  attempt  to 
run  away,"  he  explained  shrewdly. 


XI 

QUONG  LUNG  did  not  give  the  girls  time  to  look 
around;  but  hurried  them  into  a  rikisha  and  had 
them  transported  to  a  large  building  on  the  Nanking  road. 
There  he  put  them  in  charge  of  an  old  woman,  named 
Wang.  Wang  was  cross,  and  after  looking  them  over 
with  a  critical  eye  said: — 

"  This  is  the  time  you  have  been  cheated.  Look  at  the 
feet  of  that  girl"  pointing  to  Ah  Moy,  "  they  are  too  small 
for  a  slave.  Do  you  expect  me  to  offer  her  my  shoulder 
every  time  she  moves  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  responded  Quong  Lung,  "  never  mind,  Wang. 
I  will  manage  it.  There  are  more  ways  than  one  to  make 
money  out  of  girls." 

"  And  why  did  you  buy  the  Eurasian,"  continued  Wang, 
without  heeding  his  answer,  "  you  promised  me  that  you 
would  not  buy  any  more  half-breeds.  The  Chinamen  will 
not  have  them  for  wives,  and  there  is  always  danger  of 
trouble  if  you  sell  them  to  the  flower-boats.  Now,  what 
would  happen  if  that  girl's  father  should  claim  her?  " 

"  Why,"  exclaimed  Quong  Lung,  "  it  would  probably 
happen  that  I  should  get  some  money.  I  have  a  plan  — " 

But  here  he  stopped  short  and  left  Wang  to  surmise  as 
best  she  could  what  his  plan  might  be.  Wang  looked 
again  at  the  pitiful  figure  of  Wing  and  said: 

"  That  kind  are  always  getting  sick.  Do  you  suppose 
I  have  nothing  to  do  but  take  care  of  sick  Eurasians?  " 

However  Wang  might  grumble,  she  had  no  alternative 
but  to  obey,  so  she  took  the  girls  to  a  large  room  and 

101 


102  AH  MOY 

locked  them  in.  The  windows  were  barred  with  iron  rods, 
and  the  door  swung  on  huge  wooden  hinges.  Flaky, 
whitewash  had  once  .covered  the  walls,  but  it  was  now  re 
lieved  by  plentiful  streaks  of  dirt.  From  a  grease  rimmed 
hole  in  the  partition,  a  strip  of  cow-hide  hung,  the  far 
end  of  which  went  beyond  the  wall,  and  was  connected 
with  a  large  fan  that  hung  directly  over  Wang's  bed. 
From  the  ceiling  dangled  women's  clothing  in  all  stages  of 
wear  and  tear  —  the  blue  cotton  of  the  coolie,  the  butter 
fly  embroidered  silk  of  the  dancing  girl,  and  the  shiny 
black  of  the  middle-class  wife,  hanging  side  by  side. 

Through  the  grated  window  the  girls  could  look  down 
upon  throngs  of  people,  who  seemed  moving  in  an  endless 
procession.  Wing  watched  eagerly  the  living  stream, 
but  Ah  Moy's  quick  eye  caught  a  view  of  the  Yang-ste- 
kiang  river,  as  it  shimmered  in  the  distance. 

"  How  beautiful,"  she  said.  "  Only  see  the  silver 
thread  with  gray-green  banks." 

*'  No,"  replied  Wing,  "  see  the  people  below.  Oh,  If  I 
could  only  get  down  and  go  with  them !  " 

"  But  where  would  you  go?  "  asked  Ah  Moy. 

"  Oh,  just  go.  I  feel  a  spirit  within  me  that  says 
'  go.' " 

A  pained  expression  crept  into  Ah  Moy's  face,  but  she 
made  no  reply.  She  had  often  observed  the  great  gulf 
between  Wing's  thinking  and  her  own,  so  she  had  ceased 
to  wonder  at  it  and  felt  only  sorrow.  In  a  short  time,  old 
Wang  came  in  and  very  unceremoniously  set  both  girls 
to  work. 

"  Can  you  wind  the  silk  from  the  cocoons  ?  "  asked  she  of 
Ah  Moy.  "  It  requires  close  attention,  for  I  do  not  wish 
any  of  it  spoiled." 

So  saying,  she  set  down  a  basket  filled  with  the  dainty 
webs  of  the  domestic  silk-worm.  To  Wing  she  said: 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  103 

"  I  will  sleep.  You  may  pull  on  the  cowhide  till  I  re 
turn,  and  remember  I  do  not  wish  you  to  stop.  If  the 
flies  disturb  me  so  much  the  worse  for  you." 

Both  girls  immediately  obeyed.  Although  the  reels 
were  old  and  gummy,  Ah  Moy  worked  patiently  until  her 
task  mistress  reappeared,  and  Wing  was  still  pulling  at 
the  rope  when  she  opened  the  door.  When  old  Wang  saw 
this,  she  was  quite  repentant  of  the  cross  reception  she 
had  given  them,  and  said: 

"  You  may  have  some  food,  now,  and  after  eating  you 
may  select  articles  from  the  rafters  for  your  own  wear- 


The  girls  ate  their  rice  and  mushrooms,  and  then  pulled 
down  such  garments  as  they  desired  and  put  them  on.  Ah 
Moy  chose  a  simple  and  unpretentious  suit,  but  Wing 
transformed  herself  into  a  much  bespangled  young  woman. 

When  Wang  came  back  she  found  them  at  work  on 
the  silk  and  was  so  pleased  with  their  gentle  obedience  that 
she  gave  them  each  a  pair  of  slippers  to  wear. 

As  the  days  passed,  Ah  Moy  won  her  way  very  near  to 
the  heart  of  the  old  woman,  for  she  not  only  did  her  own 
work  but  frequently  repaired  the  damage  done  by  Wing's 
haste  and  impatience.  By  the  end  of  the  first  week,  the 
three  women  had  adjusted  themselves  to  one  another  in 
quite  a  home-like  way. 

Quong  Lung  had  not  been  to  see  them  in  all  this  time. 

"  They  are  in  safe  hands,"  he  said  to  a  friend,  "  old 
Wang  has  had  many  years'  experience  with  girls.  If  the 
drouth  continues,  I  think  I  shall  go  back  to  Honan,  for 
I  can  get  girls  there  just  now  at  my  own  price.  The  two, 
if  kept  at  work,  will  earn  their  rice,  while  I  collect  another 
cargo." 

"  But  can  you  sell  them  ?  "  said  Wu  Lee.  "  There  is 
both  drouth  and  war  in  the  air." 


104  AH  MOT 

"  That  is  an  old  story,"  replied  Quong  Lung,  "  war  is 
always  in  the  air.  And  as  for  the  drouth,  it  is  my  best 
friend ;  it  brings  prices  down ;"  but  even  while  they  were 
speaking  there  came  blackness  in  the  sky  and  the  wind 
bellowed  down  the  Nanking  road ;  the  gutters  sent  up  noi 
some  odors,  and  forked  lightning  darted  through  the 
clouds.  Quong  Lung  scented  the  storm  and  went  out  on 
the  street,  only  to  see  the  sky  black  and  the  water  falling 
in  sheets  upon  the  dry  earth. 

"  I  must  look  after  my  girls.  This  rain  shapes  my 
affairs  in  quite  a  new  way.  No  more  can  I  buy  the 
daughters  of  the  literati  at  my  own  price,  and  no  more 
will  I  visit  the  province  of  Honan." 

He  tied  his  trousers  around  his  ankles,  let  down  his 
queue,  which  had  been  tucked  in  his  blouse  pocket,  and 
turned  his  face  toward  the  house  where  the  slave  girls  were 
confined. 

Old  Wang  knew  how  many  tinkles  of  the  bell  meant 
Quong  Lung,  and  she  descended  the  stairs  in  haste  to  meet 
him.  She  reported  that  the  girls  were  well  and  in  suitable 
condition  to  sell. 

"  At  your  command,  I  will  prepare  them  for  the  mar 
ket,"  she  said. 

Quong  Lung  knew  what  she  meant,  and  took  from  his 
pocket  a  gold  piece  with  which  to  buy  hair  pins  and  brace 
lets  and  such  other  adornments  as  add  to  the  attractions 
of  womankind. 

"  Have  them  ready  to-morrow,"  he  directed ;  "  I  will 
bring  some  one  to  see  them  by  ten  o'clock." 

Thus  commanded,  Wang  began  her  preparations.  She 
shaved  their  foreheads  and  combed  their  hair,  plastering 
down  with  mucilage  such  tresses  as  showed  signs  of  being 
unruly ;  she  touched  their  eyebrows  with  black,  turning 
them  deftly  to  the  shape  of  a  willow  leaf,  while  their  lips 


"A  much  be-spangled  young  lady." 


106  AH  MOY 

she  brightened  with  vermilion.  She  pressed  folds  into 
their  trousers,  with  as  much  precision  as  a  tailor  presses 
the  garments  of  men.  All  the  morning  Wang  fretted 
and  fumed  over  their  toilets,  and,  when  her  labors  were 
ended,  the  girls  looked  very  different  from  the  timid,  little 
wild  flowers  whom  Quong  Lung  had  bought. 

At  ten  o'clock  Quong  Lung  rang  the  bell,  and  a  number 
of  would-be  purchasers  followed  at  his  heels.  Most  of 
them  were  Chinamen  in  search  of  wives.  Among  these 
Ah  Moy  was  a  prime  favorite;  but  Quong  Lung  held  his 
prize  at  a  high  figure. 

"  You  cannot  buy  the  daughter  of  a  Ching  Fo  every 
day,"  he  said  to  one  merchant  who  offered  five  hundred 
taels  for  her. 

"  I  can  sell  her  any  day  in  San  Francisco  for  two  thou 
sand  dollars,"  he  declared  and  to  other  offers  he  replied, 
"  No,  no !  I  can  do  much  better  in  San  Francisco." 

Two  weeks  passed  in  a  fruitless  attempt  to  dispose  of 
the  two  girls.  Then,  one  evening,  as  he  was  closing  his 
house,  Quong  Lung  said  to  old  Wang, 

"  I  believe  I  shall  shape  my  affairs  so  as  to  make  the 
trip  to  San  Francisco." 

"  I  told  you  so,"  replied  old  Wang,  with  true  womanly 
instinct.  "  Ah  Moy's  feet  are  too  small  and  Wing  is  only 
a  consumer  of  rice.  She  will  never  bring  the  money  you 
have  invested  in  her;  besides,  she  is  not  in  good  health, 
and  may,  at  any  time,  become  a  burden." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Quong  Lung,  "  I  may  as  well  give 
it  up.  I  can  get  something  for  her  at  the  flower-boats, 
and  then  I  can  take  Ah  Moy  to  San  Francisco  and  do  well 
on  her.  But  when  I  bought  the  half-breed  I  had  a  plan, 
which,  had  it  worked  as  I  expected,  would  have  made  the 
half-breed  a  profitable  investment." 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  107 

"  You  have  hinted  at  your  plan  before,"  said  Wang, 
a  little  piqued,  "  and  I  suppose  I  know  what  it  is." 

"  I  suppose  you  do,"  acknowledged  he ;  "  you  are 
shrewd  enough  to  see  that  if  I  could  find  the  girl's  father, 
I  could  make  him  pay  well  for  her.  But  as  I  have  failed 
in  that,  I  think  I  will  let  go  for  what  I  can  get,  and  trust 
to  better  luck  in  the  future." 

The  next  morning,  Wang  dressed  Wing  in  the  best  the 
place  afforded  and  set  her  down  to  await  the  arrival  of 
Quong  Lung.  Adorned  with  jewelry  and  fine  clothes, 
the  perfume  of  sandal  wood  in  her  hair,  and  her  olive  skin 
set  off  with  cheeks  and  lips  of  vermilion,  she  suited  fairly 
well  the  requirements  of  the  flower-boat. 

But  Quong  Lung  still  regretted  that  he  had  missed  find 
ing  her  father,  the  white  devil,  who  had  come  to  China  to 
get  rich  and  left  without  giving  the  slave-dealer  an  oppor 
tunity  to  extort  a  share  of  his  wealth.  However,  Quong 
Lung  was  not  a  man  to  cry  over  spilt  milk.  He  came 
promptly  to  the  house  in  the  Nanking  road,  and,  in  a 
savage  way,  gave  three  tinkles  at  the  bell,  which  brought 
old  Wang  to  the  door  in  double  quick  time. 

"  Is  she  ready  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  she  is  ready,  and  she  looks  very  pretty,"  replied 
Wang  soothingly,  for  she  saw  that  he  was  in  a  bad  humor. 
Quong  Lung  took  the  half-breed  girl  by  the  hand  and 
led  her  down  the  steps.  She  flung  back  a  parting  word 
to  Ah  Moy  and  seemed  pleased  that  new  scenes  awaited 
her. 

"  A  fragile  child,  from  a  home  unblessed, 
To  be  culled  and  worn  on  a  sated  breast," 

was  poor  little  Wing,  as  she  said  good-bye  to  Ah  Moy  and 
followed  Quong  Lung  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter. 


108  AH  MOY 

"  Come  this  way,"  commanded  he,  "  and  try  to  behave 
like  Ah  Moy,  or  I  shall  not  be  able  to  sell  you  at  all." 

Just  as  he  was  about  seating  her  in  a  rikisha  a  police 
man  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  and  said,  in  very  good 
English. 

"  A  man  wants  to  see  you  at  the  guild  house,  sir." 

Quong  Lung's  face  brightened.  He  felt  that  this 
might  be  the  message  for  which  he  had  waited  in  vain  since 
his  arrival  in  Shanghai, —  the  message  which  would  tell 
him  the  whereabouts  of  the  father  of  his  slave. 

He  sent  the  girl  back  up  stairs,  and  made  haste  to  a 
building  which  was  situated  in  an  unsavory  part  of  the 
city,  known  as  the  Foo  Chow  road.  From  the  outside, 
nothing  indicated  what  might  be  within ;  but  the  smells 
were  those  of  Chinatown,  and  the  guard  at  the  door  was 
of  the  Ho  Wang  company. 

As  Quong  Lang  entered,  two  men  rose  and  bowed  dip 
lomatically  low.  Quong  Lung  shook  his  own  hands  and 
motioned  them  to  a  table;  tea,  tobacco  and  sam-shu  came 
in  courses.  At  last  the  tallest  of  the  two  men  said : — 

"  Most  honored  friend,  we  have  secured  the  information 
you  desired  concerning  the  father  of  the  Eurasian  girl, 
and  we  would  know  how  much  you  are  willing  to  pay  us 
for  our  trouble." 

"  Is  the  testimony  correct,  beyond  the  peradventure  of 
a  doubt?  "  inquired  Quong  Lung. 

"  It  is  a  transcript  from  the  temple  records,"  replied  the 
first  speaker ;  "  I  swear  it  will  put  you  into  communication 
with  the  father  of  the  girl." 

"  I  would  pay  something  down,  and  more  if  the  matter 
comes  to  a  successful  issue,"  ventured  Quong  Lung 
guardedly. 

"  We  have  searched  over  half  the  records  in  the  prov 
ince.  We  must  have,  at  least,  three  hundred  dollars." 


"  The  water  falling  in  sheets." 


ac 
^dr 


110  AH  MOY 

Quong  Lung  rattled  some  coin  in  his  pocket,  but  be 
yond  that  made  no  reply.  After  a  short  time,  the  two 
men  arose  to  go  and  Quong  Lung,  seeing  that  they  in 
tended  no  further  parley,  said: 

"  Come  back  to-morrow  and  I  will  see  what  can  be  done. 
The  price  is  too  high,  but  I  will  consider  it." 

Quong  Lung  had  already  exhausted  his  own  ingenuity 
in  search  of  the  man  who  had  bought  Wing's  mother  and 
so  cruelly  deserted  her,  and  he  had  been  compelled  to  re- 
s"brt  to  the  professional  detective.  These  men  he  knew  to 
be  merciless  in  their  demands  for  money,  but  they  were 
now  his  only  hope,  and  the  delay  of  twenty-four  hours 
was  merely  a  strategic  move  that  he  might  ascertain  from 
old  Wang  a  little  more  definitely  the  condition  of  Wing's 
health. 

He  walked  back  to  the  Nanking  road  and  again  rang 
the  bell.  Old  Wang  was  in  a  communicative  humor,  and 
he  had,  on  such  occasions,  no  hesitancy  in  telling  her  the 
truth  about  his  plans. 

"  I  am  in  the  way,  he  said,  "  to  find  the  whereabouts 
of  Wing's  father  and  to  get  the  information  I  wanted 
as  to  his  finances.  But  I  wish  your  opinion  as  to  the  state 
of  her  health ;  for  it  will  not  pay  to  spend  any  more  money 
on  her  unless  she  is  in  tolerable  condition.  In  other 
words,  if  she  is  likely  to  go  to  the  white  man's  hell  before 
I  can  get  my  hands  on  the  father,  I  want  to  know  it." 

"  Oh,  no  fear  of  that !  I  have  had  the  care  of  girls 
for  more  than  twenty  years,  and  I  should  say,  barring 
accidents,  she  will  outlive  Ah  Moy.  The  foreigner's  chil- 

•en  do  hold  on  to  life  unaccountably,"  she  reassured  him. 

"  Then,"  said  Quong  Lung,  "  you  shall  keep  Wing  for 
the  present  and  say  to  anyone  who  calls  that  she  is  already 
sold.  Help  me  now,  Wang,  and  when  I  get  my  hand  on 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  111 

that  fellow,  we  will  both  have  more  money  than  we  have 
now.  Good-bye !  " 

Next  morning  the  trio  met  again  at  the  guildhall,  and 
Quong  Lung  dispensed  tea  with  a  liberal  hand,  but  the 
two  detectives  reiterated  their  price  of  three  hundred  dol 
lars  for  the  information. 

"  It  is  exorbitant,"  protested  the  slave-dealer. 

"  But  it  is  proportionate  to  the  good ;  the  child  of  the 
white  devil  is  valuable  when  all  the  signs  come  right," 
urged  the  tall  one. 

An  end  to  the  parley  came,  however,  and  Quong  Lung 
paid  three  hundred  dollars  for  a  piece  of  paper,  on  which 
was  written: 

"  Ukiah  Grant,  dealer  in  Wines  and  Liquors,  North 
Honan  road,  purchased  one  slave,  named  Wo  Sing,  in 
1885.  July  7,  1887,  a  daughter  was  born  to  him  by  this 
woman.  In  1892,  he  retired  from  business  and  returned 
to  his  native  city,  San  Francisco,  California,  U.  S.  A.  The 
records  show  that  he  paid  taxes  upon  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  Signed  by  Wu  Chow,  Recorder  of  the  Quan  Yin 
temple." 

A  great  cloud  was  lifted  from  Quong  Lung,  when  he 
saw  the  official  stamp  on  the  Quan  Yin  temple,  for  he 
knew  that  this  was  testimony  that  no  man  could  dispute. 
With  the  document  still  in  his  hand,  he  returned  to  the 
Nanking  road  and  told  old  Wang  of  his  success. 

"  You  may  begin  now  to  put  both  girls  in  training  for 
a  trip  to  San  Francisco.  Ah  Moy  must  be  taught  to  say 
that  she  is  the  daughter  of  Quong  Lung  and  born  in  the 
United  States,  otherwise  the  devil  will  be  to  pay  when  I 
try  to  land  her.  You  know  the  old  story  of  the  custom 
house.  You  must  also  produce  a  mole  on  her  right  cheek. 
Aside  from  that,  she  fits  the  passport  I  have  very  well. 


112 


AH  MOY 


The  half-breed  I  am  sure  is  all  right,  as  I  can  prove  that 
she  is  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  citizen  of  that  city." 

So  saying,  he  dropped  another  coin  in  the  hand  of 
Wang  and  went  out.  There  was  buoyancy  in  his  step,  as 
he  walked  briskly  toward  the  Bund.  The  amount  of 
money  that  he  might  extort  from  Ukiah  Grant,  when  he 
landed  in  San  Francisco  with  his  half-breed  daughter,  was 
as  yet  an  unknown  quantity ;  but  he  felt  sure  that  it  would 
swell  his  bank  account.  He  went  directly  to  the  office  of 
the  Nippon  Yusen  Cashia  and  found  that  it  would  be  a 
week  yet  before  another  steamer  sailed.  By  that  time  he 
could  easily  have  everything  in  readiness  for  the  journey. 


*?p|p£r;~ 


XII 

IT  was  early  in  the  fall  when  Quong  Lung  led  his  two 
slave  girls  up  the  gang  plank  of  the  Hong  Kong  Maru. 
Tucked  away  under  his  blouse  were  three  European  steer 
age  tickets,  the  transcript  of  the  temple  record,  for  which 
he  had  paid  three  hundred  dollars,  and  two  passports,  one 
for  himself  and  one  for  Ah  Moy.  He  did  not  think  it 
necessary  to  have  a  passport  for  Wing,  since  he  could 
prove  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  an  American  citizen. 

His  own  passport  recited  that  he  was  a  merchant  doing 
business  on  Jackson  street,  in  San  Francisco.  The  pass 
port  on  which  he  expected  to  land  Ah  Moy  stated  that  she 
was  Chinese,  twenty  years  old,  and  born  in  California.  It 
also  mentioned  the  fact  that  she  had  a  mole  on  the  right 
cheek.  This  document  was  second  hand,  having  been 
taken  out  for  a  death-stricken  slave  whom  Quong  Lung 
had  brought  with  him  from  San  Francisco,  but  she  an 
swered  the  description  reasonably  well.  That  she  was 
Chinese,  anyone  could  see;  that  she  was  twenty  years  of 
age,  happily  no  one  could  deny ;  and  that  she  had  a  mole 
on  her  right  cheek  was  due  to  old  Wang's  skilful  manipu 
lation.  Taking  all  things  together,  the  slave-dealer  con- 
gratuated  himself  on  stepping  out  of  the  bedlam  into 
which  his  own  country  had  fallen  with  a  prospect  of  land 
ing  on  his  feet  in  San  Francisco. 

In  the  European  steerage  there  was  scarcely  standing 
room;  but  Quong  Lung  pushed  his  way  to  the  women's 
cabin,  and  there  deposited  the  two  astonished  girls,  bidding 
them  stay  until  he  returned  and  not  to  talk  to  anyone. 

113 


AH  MOT 

He  then  climbed  the  narrow  iron  stairs  to  the  middle 
deck  and  began  searching  among  the  crew  for  old  ac 
quaintances. 

He  had  crossed  the  ocean  twice  before  in  the  ship,  and 
as  the  crew  was  mostly  Chinese  he  felt  sure  that  they 
would  remember  him.  Especially  would  the  cook,  whose 
friendship  he  valued  highly.  As  he  stepped  under  the 
awning,  he  saw  a  number  of  women  standing  beside  the 
rail,  each  of  whom  had  a  hymn  book  in  her  hand,  and  a 
look  of  doomsday  in  her  face.  With  his  eyes  cast  deep 
upon  the  floor,  he  attempted  to  pass  this  little  group,  but 
one  of  them  plucked  him  by  the  sleeve  and  asked  him  if 
he  "  loved  Jesus,"  to  which  he  replied  that  he  did,  but  his 
face  darkened  and  he  turned  back  to  the  second  cabin 
where  he  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  pass  unobserved. 
When  the  proper  moment  came,  he  again  climbed  the 
stairs  in  search  of  his  friend  the  cook,  but  as  he  did  so 
another  sight  ruffled  the  smooth  surface  of  his  brow.  A 
woman  with  a  Salvation  Army  bonnet  drifted  past  him  to 
meet  another  bonnet  of  the  same  kind.  As  soon  as  they 
had  gone,  he  dived  rather  unceremoniously  into  the  kitchen 
and  remarked  that  he  had  never  seen  so  many  missionaries 
in  his  life.  Sing  Ho,  the  cook,  quite  agreed  with  him. 
"  The  Boxers  have  driven  them  on  board,  and  so  much  the 
better  for  China,"  replied  that  important  personage. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Quong  Lung.  "  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  this  uprising  will  rid  China  of  them  altogether." 

"  My,  no  can  chin,  chin,"  replied  Sing  Hi,  and  then  swore 
in  tolerably  good  English  that  China  was  for  the  Chinese, 
and  that  the  foreign  devils  should  stay  in  their  own  coun 
try.  It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  arm  of  the 
great  steel  crane  was  swinging  load  after  load  of  baggage 
into  the  hold,  and  the  jar  of  machinery  was  shaking  the 
ship  from  fore  to  aft.  Quong  Lung  cast  his  eye  up  and 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  115 

read  with  considerable  nautical  skill  the  language  of  the 
flags  as  they  floated  lazily  in  the  breeze.  A  yellow  one 
said :  "  We  sail  from  a  plague-infested  port." 

"  Poor  old  China,"  said  he,  "  is  plague-stricken,  as  well 
as  drouth-stricken.  Then  looking  at  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  he  congratulated  himself  that  he  could  go  to  the 
land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave,  and  remain 
until  times  were  better.  That  with  a  little  manipulation 
of  passports,  he  could  even  land  slaves  there.  As  he 
stood  meditating,  the  gang  plank  was  suddenly  taken  up 
and  the  sorrowful  waving  from  the  shore  told  him  that 
the  hour  of  departure  had  come.  He  slipped  back  to 
where  he  had  left  the  two  girls,  and  found  them  wedged  in 
between  Americans,  Hindoos,  Sikhs,  Russians,  and  such 
other  conglomerate  as  go  to  make  up  society  in  an  open 
part  of  Asia.  He  was  glad  that  only  a  few  of  their 
traveling  companions  spoke  English,  for  he  shrewdly 
reckoned  that  as  long  as  tfiere  was  a  confusion  of  tongues 
his  slaves  were  reasonably  safe  from  molestation. 

The  first  three  days  of  the  voyage  were  like  the  first 
three  days  of  any  other  sea  voyage,  the  passengers  shiv 
ered  and  at  times  turned  grayish  yellow.  When  the 
stewardess  came  round  with  the  regulation  questions,  those 
who  could  smiled,  while  others  demanded  beaf  tea. 
Quong  Lung  was  too  good  a  sailor  to  be  sea-sick;  he 
loafed  and  picked  dainties  from  the  cook's  kettles,  and  fre 
quently  passed  the  door  of  the  women's  cabin,  where  his 
girls  lay  looking  very  limp  and  yellow.  But  by  the  third 
day,  everything  grew  rapidly  better.  First  one  and  then 
another  was  able  to  go  on  deck;  and  at  last  the  two 
Chinese  girls  crawled  out  of  their  bunks,  combed  their 
hair,  and,  under  the  protection  of  one  of  the  women, 
climbed  the  stairs  to  get  the  morning  sun.  Quong  Lung 
saw  them  and  gritted  his  teeth. 


116  AH  MOY 

"  By  the  five-toed  dragon,"  he  muttered,  "  there  she  is, 
with  a  Salvation  Army  bonnet  and  a  hymn  book." 

He  glanced  into  the  innocent  blue  eyes  of  the  woman, 
as  though  she  had  done  him  an  injury,  and  as  soon  as 
he  could  conveniently  lay  hold  of  the  girls,  he  took  them 
by  the  hand  and  led  them  to  the  stairs,  saying  in  no  uncer 
tain  voice, 

"  Stay  below  and  keep  away  from  the  woman." 

This  act  brought  upon  him  a  score  or  two  of  eyes  and 
set  a  score  or  two  of  tongues  a  going. 

"  I  was  trying  to  help  the  poor  girls,"  complained  she 
of  the  bonnet,  "  and  the  horrid  old  Chinaman  took  them 
away." 

"  You  must  not  be  discouraged  in  well-doing,"  said  a 
sweet-faced  sister.  "  It  may  be  many  days  before  bread 
cast  upon  the  waters  returns  again." 

"  But  where  can  he  be  going  with  those  two  girls,  and 
can  he  be  their  father,  or  are  .they  slaves  ?  "  were  soon 
topics  of  discussion  among  the  missionaries.  Society  finds 
its  own  on  shipboard  as  well  as  otherwhere  and  it  came 
about  naturally  that  missionaries  of  all  creeds  drifted  to 
gether.  Each  morning  they  held  a  prayer-meeting,  after 
which  they  indulged  in  social  talk  —  no  better  and  no 
worse  than  that  of  others.  They  managed  to  gather  all 
the  available  news,  to  speculate  upon  it,  and  to  draw  con 
clusions.  They  knew  who  favored  missionary  work  and 
who  opposed  it,  and  they  scented  afar  off  any  who  were 
tainted  with  unbelief.  But  the  one  question  they  could 
not  decide  at  all  was  what  Quong  Lung  was  going  to  do 
with  his  two  girls  in  San  Francisco. 

Thus  matters  stood  one  morning,  when  an  elderly  man, 
who  was  affectionately  known  as  "  Brother  Jones,5'  led  the 
prayer  meeting.  Brother  Jones  had  lived  long  in  the 
Orient  and  knew  the  whys  and  wherefores  of  the  trade  in 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  117 

Chinese  girls  in  San  Francisco.  As  he  saw  Quong  Lung 
leading  his  two  girls  past  the  hatch,  he  addressed  him  in 
the  dialect  of  the  Quong  Tung  province.  It  was  a  sur 
prise  to  the  slave-dealer  to  find  a  missionary  who  spoke 
his  own  tongue,  so  he  entered  into  conversation  with  him, 
which  ended  in  an  invitation  to  leave  the  girls  with  one  of 
the  ladies. 

The  lady  referred  to  was  a  Presbyterian  missionary,  in 
whose  face  every  line  spoke  of  good.  Ah  Moy  felt  it, 
and  placed  her  defenseless  little  hand  in  the  proffered  one 
and  sat  down  contentedly  by  her  side.  Quong  Lung  was 
now  so  hedged  in  that  he  felt  it  necessary  to  make  an  ex 
planation,  so  he  boldly  said  that  Ah  Moy  was  his  daughter, 
born  in  California,  the  language  of  the  exclusion  act 
being  closely  followed. 

But  it  was  an  unlucky  moment  when  he  condescended  to 
explain  matters  to  Brother  Jones,  for  that  gentleman  had 
recognized  in  the  face  of  Quong  Lung  that  unmistakable 
something  which  stamps  itself  upon  a  Cantonese  China 
man,  while  in  Ah  Moy's  face  he  saw  as  plainly  the  marks 
of  the  northern  bred.  This  discrepancy  of  testimony  at 
once  gave  rise  to  the  suspicion  that  both  girls  were  slaves. 
Brother  Jones  communicated  this  probability  to  the  women, 
as  soon  as  the  Chinaman  was  beyond  hearing,  and  from 
that  moment  the  horoscope  of  the  slave-dealer  told  a 
troublesome  story. 

It  was  useless  to  try  to  escape  the  missionaries;  they 
swarmed  about  him,  expressing  the  greatest  interest  in 
his  charges ;  they  led  the  girls  on  deck  and  talked  to  them 
in  that  wonderful  sign  language  which  nature  provides  for 
all  her  children.  When  the  weather  was  fair,  the  ladies 
and  the  Chinese  girls  leaned  together  over  the  rail  to  watch 
the  water  as  it  was  churned  into  frothy  yeast,  or  they 
peeped  into  the  engine  room,  to  see  the  bright  machinery, 


118  AH  MOY 

each  throb  of  which  was  bringing  them  nearer  to  their 
destination. 

Among  those  who  walked  and  talked  with  the  girls 
was  Dr.  Richardson,  who  had  for  three  years  been  sta 
tioned  as  a  medical  missionary  in  one  of  the  open  ports  of 
China.  Her  eye  was  the  trained  eye  of  science,  and  she 
knew  at  once  that  into  Wing's  veins  had  been  poured  a 
stream  of  fierce  and  ungoverned  western  blood. 

"  Poor  little  waif,"  she  said,  "  cast  upon  so  stormy  a 
sea  without  sail  or  rudder;  it  is  to  such  as  these  that  the 
true  missionary  should  go." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  returned  she  of  the  motherly  heart,  "  but 
can  you  tell  us  how  to  help  these  unfortunates?  It  is 
T  easy  to  bring  Ah  Moy  to  Jesus ;  but,  with  the  Eurasian, 
it  is  a  different  story." 

"Ah  Moy,"  said  the  doctor,  a  little  sharply,  "is  no 
more  in  need  of  being  brought  to  Jesus  than  are  the  birds. 
It  is  Wing  that  needs  our  help.  By  her  father's  blood 
i  she  is  fairly  stamped  as  one  of  us,  and  we  owe  her  our 
protection.  Ah  Moy  can  be  sold  in  San  Francisco  to 
some  wealthy  Chinaman  for  a  wife.  But  little  Wing  will 
be  despised,  and  if  left  to  herself  will  probably  find  her 
way  to  the  class  we  call  '  fallen.*  She  is  only  of  value  to 
the  world,"  continued  the  doctor,  "  as  she  is  protected." 
Then,  putting  her  arm  about  the  poor  little  half-breed 
girl,  she  said, 

"  Buddhism  has  done  more  to  teach  her  children  ab 
stemiousness  and  sex-wisdom  than  has  Christianity." 

"  To  this  remark,  the  Salvation  Army  missionary  pro 
tested,  saying  that  missionaries  who  could  endorse  any 
thing  in  Buddhism  were  in  danger  of  losing  the  true 
light. 

"  That  subject  is  not  under  discussion,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "  but  it  is  a  fact  beyond  dispute  that  Chinese 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  1191 

children  are  better  trained  in  many  respects  than  ours.      Y 
If    our    own   people   understood   this    subject   better,    we         ; 
should   not    find   the   half-breed   scattered   from   Dan   to 
Beersheba  and  left  without  protection,  as  this  poor  child     v 
has  been." 

Wing  felt  the  magnetism  of  the  doctor's  embrace  and 
crept  nearer  to  her  with  a  sheltered  feeling,  such  as  she 
had  never  before  experienced. 

*'  This  strange  foreign  woman,"  she  said  to  Ah  Moy, 
when  they  were  alone,  "  understands  me,  and  I  love  her." 

During  their  long  morning  prayer-meetings  the  mis 
sionaries  managed  to  keep  the  slave  girls  near  them. 
Quong  Lung  walked  the  deck  uneasily,  and  to  counteract 
any  evil  influence  provided  liberally  for  the  bodily  comfort 
of  Ah  Moy  and  Wing. 

When  he  found  that  the  foreign  food  was  distasteful  to 
them,  he  made  raids  upon  Sing  Hi  for  such  food  as  the 
Oriental  palate  craved.  These  dainties  he  cooked  himself 
upon  a  pocket  stove  and  dished  out  as  the  girls  needed 
them.  Through  all  his  conversation,  he  was  also  careful 
to  impress  Ah  Moy  with  the  idea  that  California  was  a 
country  where  people  lived  in  the  greatest  luxury,  and 
that,  as  soon  as  they  arrived,  she  would  become  the  wife 
of  a  rich  merchant. 

The  water  remained  a  miracle  of  beauty ;  blue  met  blue 
on  the  horizon  line  for  days  at  a  time;  occasionally,  a 
whale  spouted  in  the  distance  or  an  albatross  swept  the 
air  close  to  the  rail,  but  save  for  these  little  incidents 
the  solitude  of  an  unbroken  sea  contrasted,  day  by  day, 
with  the  restlessness  of  the  passengers  on  board  the  great 
ship.  For  eighteen  days  the  scene  was  the  same,  when, 
suddenly,  an  outline  of  dim  green  and  a  long  line  of  white 
surf  crept  along  the  horizon. 

Quong  Lung's  quick  eye  was  the  first  to  see  it ;  he  called 


120  AH  MOT 

the  attention  of  the  girls  and  pointed  to  a  jewel-like  row  of 
islands,  set  in  an  ever-changing  opal  sea.  For  hours 
they  watched  the  apparition  grow  into  land,  studded  with 
groups  of  palms  and  sugar  cane,  while  little  dots  on  its 
slopes  told  of  homes  nestling  beneath  the  foliage. 

Before  night,  the  ship  came  to  a  standstill,  just  out 
side  the  wharf  of  Honolulu  and  as  no  contagious  disease 
had  developed  during  the  voyage,  the  passengers  were  al 
lowed  to  land.  They  found  the  western  civih'zation  fairly 
established,  and  everything  throbbing  with  life.  A  po 
litical  boss  had  charge  of  the  work  on  the  wharf,  and 
close  by  was  the  "  Holiness  Hotel "  and  the  "  Gladtid- 
ings  "  grocery  store. 

Quong  Lung  attempted  to  go  ashore,  but  was  informed 
that  Chinamen  were  not  allowed  to  land.  The  mission 
aries,  however,  were  on  their  own  stamping  ground.  They 
were  met  by  an  eager  throng,  escorted  ashore,  and  enter 
tained  with  fruits  and  flowers  beyond  compare.  On  the 
third  day,  they  returned  to  the  ship,  bearing  all  the  lux 
uries  of  a  semi-tropical  climate.  Out  of  their  abundance 
Ah  Moy  and  Wing  were  bountifully  supplied,  at  which 
they  marvelled  much.  That  nigfct  a  white  trail  was  left 
on  the  smooth  surface  of  the  sea,  and  in  the  morning  the 
ship  was  again  out  of  sight  of  land. 

Only  a  week  now  remained  until  the  end  of  the  voyage. 
Tailor-made  clothes  came  out  of  the  trunks,  to  adorn  the 
women;  Japanese  kimonas  gave  place  to  shirt-waists. 
The  male  members  of  the  missionary  staff  had  their  queues 
cut  off,  and,  in  deference  to  Western  taste,  donned  coats 
and  vests.  The  Japanese  on  board  limped  about  in 
leather  shoes,  and  even  Quong  Lung  brought  out  shining 
new  trousers  for  his  girls. 

The  ship  underwent  such  a  cleaning  up  as  no  ship  ever 
receives  until  she  is  nearing  port.  Tattered  flags  were 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  121 

mended  and  masts  were  painted,  floors  scrubbed,  and  brass 
polished.  Through  the  liberality  of  the  steamship  com 
pany,  hundreds  of  labels  bearing  the  word  "  Disinfected  " 
were  scattered  among  the  passengers,  with  the  advice  "  to 
stick  them  on  to  everything."  This,  both  saint  and  sinner 
did,  and  when  they  arrived  in  quarantine  waters  nothing 
but  the  yellow  flag  told  that  the  ship  had  sailed  from  an 
infected  port.  It  was  necessary,  however,  that  she  halt 
and  wait  for  the  inspectors,  a  formality  which  caused 
delay,  and  some  remarks  not  complimentary  to  interna 
tional  usage;  but  toward  night  the  obnoxious  flag  came 
down  and  the  Hong  Kong  Maru  slid  gracefully  up  to 
her  pier  at  the  foot  of  Brennan  Street. 

Here  she  was  dgain  boarded  by  officials  in  blue  uni 
forms,  who  seemed  to  be  merely  loitering  about,  but  who 
were  in  reality  taking  close  notice  of  all  on  board.  These 
men  Quong  Lung  pointed  out  to  the  girls,  at  the  same  time 
handing  them  the  documents  upon  which  he  expected  to 
get  them  ashore,  and  once  again  impressing  upon  them  the 
necessity  of  saying  that  they  were  born  in  California. 

Although  of  a  race  whose  greatest  accomplishment  is 
"  to  keep  the  face,"  Quong  Lung  showed  signs  of  worry. 
The  ship  was  now  discharging  her  just  and  her  unjust 
into  the  streets  of  San  Francisco ;  the  second  cabin  steward 
had  gathered  the  Chinese  into  a  squad  and  was  waiting 
until  the  European  passengers  were  off,  to  marshal  them 
in  double  quick  time  to  the  gang  plank. 

When  the  human  stream  began  to  thin,  Quong  Lung 
turned  to  the  girls  and  bade  them  be  in  readiness.  As  it 
was  near  night,  he  shrewdly  reckoned  that  the  custom  house 
officers  would  be  getting  hungry,  and  perhaps  that  fact 
might  enhance  his  chance  of  getting  through  without  very 
close  scrutiny.  The  minutes  seemed  long  to  him,  but  at 
last  the  steward  gave  the  signal  and  the  Chinese  fell  into 


122  AH  MOT 

line,  each  presenting  his  passport,  and  answering  such 
questions  as  were  put  to  him. 

The  officers  •  recognized  Quong  Lung  as  a  merchant 
whom  they  had  often  seen  on  board  and  let  him  pass  with 
out  even  looking  at  his  papers ;  but  when  the  girls  timidly 
stepped  behind  him,  Brother  Jones,  who  had  lingered  pur 
posely,  whispered  something  into  the  officer's  ear  and  he 
immediately  motioned  the  girls  back,  and  the  steward  led 
them  to  one  side. 

After  the  crowd  had  disappeared,  the  officers  called  the 
girls  forward  again  and  demanded  their  passports.  The 
description  in  Ah  Moy's  seemed  fairly  correct,  but  suspi 
cion  was  aroused  by  the  fact  that  the  mole  on  her  cheek 
was  slightly  off  color.  When  they  asked  her  where  she 
was  born  she  was  too  frightened  to  recall  the  word  "  Cali 
fornia,"  which  had  been  so  carefully  drilled  into  her  mem 
ory,  and  only  stood  with  the  stolid  look  of  a  Chinese  who 
does  not  understand.  The  officer  folded  her  passport  and 
handed  it  back  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  at  the  same  time 
reaching  for  the  transcript  of  the  Temple  records  which 
Wing  held. 

"  Here  is  another  case  out  of  the  ordinary,"  he  said 
after  reading  the  papers,  "  I  do  not  think  we  have  ever 
before  had  a  Chinese  woman  who  claimed  to  be  the  daughter 
of  an  American.  It  may  be  all  right,  but  I  do  not  wish 
to  take  the  responsibility  of  passing  her." 

After  a  short  consultation,  the  officers  decided  that  they 
could  do  nothing  except  keep  the  girls  on  board  until  the 
next  day,  and  then  give  them  a  new  hearing.  Quong  Lung 
requested  the  privilege  of  going  back  to  speak  to  them; 
but  his  request  was  denied  and  he  walked  wrathf  ully  away 
toward  Chinatown. 


xm 

/CHINATOWN  was  all  agog  over  Quong  Lung's  fail- 
V-/  ure  to  land  his  slaves.     Groups  of  men  discussed  the  -i 
incident    and    complained    at    America's    discriminations  \ 
against  the  Mongolian.     When  the  bell  on  the  old  church  _) 
tower  was  striking  eight,  the  president  of  the  Ho  Wang 
Company  sent  out  messages  to  those  most  interested  to 
meet  in  a  hall  on  Crocker  Alley,  and  talk  the  matter  over. 

The  room  where  the  meeting  was  called  was  the  one  in 
which  the  Chinese  municipal  council  was  wont  to  assemble. 
Its  furniture  consisted  of  straightback  teakwood  chairs, 
elaborately  carved,  a  long  table  upon  which  was  tea  and 
opium,  tobacco  and  whiskey  —  even  the  whiskey  of  the 
white  devil,  which  the  Chinese  had  learned  to  like  better 
than  their  own  sam-shu.  Against  the  walls,  divans  with 
wooden  pillows,  attested  to  the  luxurious  habits  of  those 
gathered  there.  In  an  incense-burner,  before  the  God  of 
Prosperity,  a  hundred  joss  sticks  evinced  the  religious 
zeal  of  the  Ho  Wang  Company.  At  the  far  end  of  the 
room,  was  a  screen  on  which  was  inscribed,  in  softly  shaded 
ideographs,  verses  from  the  Confucian  code. 

This  pious  appearing  decoration,  however,  served  an 
other  purpose  than  that  of  teaching  morality;  for  it  was 
hung  at  the  top,  with  hinges  that  swung  out  and  concealed  l^  \ 
an  opening  in  the  wall,  through  which  any  number  of  per 
sons  might  disappear,  and,  like  birds  that  swim  under 
water,  come  to  the  surface  a  long  way  from  the  place 
where  they  went  down.  This  arrangement  was  necessitated 
by  the  frequent  visits  of  the  police,  on  which  occasions  it 

123 


AH  MOY 

was  thought  better  that  the  hall  should  be  found  unoc 
cupied. 

At  the  street  entrance  was  a  sentinel,  who  communicated, 
by  pulling  a  wire,  with  another  sentinel  on  the  inside, — 
once  for  a  member  of  the  Ho  Wang  Company,  twice  for 
an  unfriendly  tong,  and  three  times  for  any  suspicious 
movement  of  the  policemen,  whose  eagle  eye  was  fre 
quently  turned  in  that  direction. 

It  was  getting  late  and  all  was  quiet,  so  the  guard  on 
the  inside  pulled  a  piece  of  roast  pork  from  his  sleeve  and 
was  about  to  eat,  when  the  bell  rang  once.  He  slipped  the 
pork  back  into  place  and  admitted  four  men,  all  of  middle 
age,  and  prosperous  appearance. 

The  first  was  Ah  King,  straight  as  an  arrow,  shrewd 
as  a  fox,  and  strong  in  the  faith  that  Chinatown  did  not 
need  police  surveillance.  He  wore  a  green  silk  blouse, 
decorated  under  his  queue  with  a  greese  spot  the  size  of  a 
dinner  plate.  Ho  Lung  followed  on  the  heels  of  the  first 
merchant  and  answered  to  the  same  description, —  a  little 
deeper  concentration  of  thought  had  turned  his  eyes  a  lit 
tle  more  toward  the  nose ;  a  little  more  taste  in  the  selection 
,  of  his  silken  trousers  had  given  him  a  superior  air ;  but 
far  4inderlying  all  surface  appearances,  was  the  real 
•  Chinaman,  who  lives  forever  and  changes  not.  The  other 

Jtwo  men  followed  m  single  file,  and  the  odor  of  the  Far 
East  came  in  with  them  and  sat  with  them  at  the  table. 

TheHEtle  party  talked  about  the  affairs  of  the  Ho  Wang 
Company,  the  latest  news  from  home,  the  prices  of  vege 
tables,  and  then  drifted  off  upon  the  exclusion  act. 

"  Our  friend,  Quong  Lung,  has  had  a  stormy  voyage," 
remarked  Ah  King,  as  he  poured  tea  from  a  padded  tea 
pot. 

"Yes,"  assented  Ho  Lung,  "The  God  of  Fate  has 
brought  him  into  trouble." 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  125 

Just  here  a  third  voice  piped  up,  "  The  signs  were  not 
right  when  he  sailed.  A  man  should  not  go  to  sea  when 
the  sign  of  the  zodiac  is  in  Taurus." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  concern  myself  so  much  about  the  signs," 
said  Ah  King,  "  living  in  San  Francisco  ten  years  makes 
a  man  begin  to  doubt  them;  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
the  times  were  inauspicious  when  our  friend  sailed.  The 
trouble  with  the  Boxers  drove  so  many  missionaries  on 
board  that  Quong  Lung  could  not  keep  aloof,  and,  as  a 
result,  they  have  brought  him  into  trouble." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Ho  Lung,  "  but  I  still  believe  that  the 
gods  have  much  to  do  with  our  troubles.  We  all  lie 
bound  upon  the  wheel  of  fate." 

After  this  remark  there  was  silence  for  a  time,  and  then 
conversation  turned  upon  politics  —  the  politics  of  China 
town,  a  brand  quite  distinct  from  that  of  the  white  men; 
a  wheel  within  a  wheel,  so  to  speak,  which  goes  one  way 
while  the  main  wheel  goes  another. 

They  had  not  entered  very  fully  upon  this  complicated 
subject,  however,  when  a  party  of  five  young  men,  all  of 
a  slightly  modified  type,  came  into  the  room.  These  were 
American  born,  and  had  been  educated  in  the  public 
schools.  They  swore  in  English,  but  returned  to  the 
mother  tongue  to  express  shades  of  meaning  not  within 
the  scope  of  their  adopted  language.  "  Pidgin "  they 
rigidly  ignored,  as  they  also  did  the  western  style  of  dress. 
Garments  cut  to  show  the  outline  of  the  figure  were  as 
much  an  indecency  to  them  as  to  their  fathers. 

The  young  men  took  seats,  and  as  Quong  Lung  had  not 
yet  arrived,  they  listened  respectfully  to  the  conversation 
of  their  elders. 

"  Business  is  good,"  remarked  Ah  King,  "  the  books  of 
the  Company  show  that,  at  the  New  Year's  festival,  every 
man  had  money  to  burn  to  his  ancestors." 


126  AH  MOT 

"  Yes,"  said  Fo  Lung,  who  kept  an  employment  office, 
"  the  demand  for  labor  is  greater  than  the  supply.  If  it 
were  not  for  the  exclusion  act,  we  might  do  well  in  this 
country." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Ah  King,  "  it  is  too  difficult  for  our 
people  to  get  here ;  the  United  States  discriminates  against 
us.  The  exclusion  act,  the  demand  for  the  '  open  door,' 
and  the  high  tariff  —  what  a  trinity  of  inconsistencies! 
The  duty  on  pickled  eggs  is  now  five  cents  a  dozen,  and 
the  duty  on  dried  mushrooms  is  equally  high." 

Just  then  another  party  of  Quong  Lung's  friends, 
among  whom  was  the  "  peace  talker,"  Ah  Foon,  arrived, 
and  seated  themselves  at  the  table.  Ah  Foon  was  a 
lawyer  who  undertook  both  sides  of  his  cases.  He  seemed 
always  to  be  present  where  trouble  was  brewing.  When 
ever  there  was  a  difference  of  opinion  among  his  country 
men,  he  threw  himself  into  the  breach  for  the  purpose  of 
adjusting  it.  On  occasions  of  serious  rupture,  he  had 
been  known  to  prostrate  himself,  first  to  one  side  and  then 
to  the  other,  in  the  interest  of  peace.  Among  Chinamen 
he  seldom  failed  to  make  amicable  arrangements ;  but  he 
had  learned,  after  some  experience,  that  Westerners  adjust 
their  differences  in  quite  another  way,  and  to  their  meth 
ods  he  was  now  giving  attention.  He  had  found  that 
testimony  was  an  important  item,  in  settling  disputes  in 
the  white  man's  court  and  he  had  frequently  furnished 
such  as  was  required  to  win  a  case.  In  short,  he  had  be 
come  so  skilful  in  this  matter,  that  he  only  needed  a  clear 
idea  of  what  was  wanted,  to  be  able  to  produce  it.  Es 
pecially  had  he  looked  into  habeas  corpus  procedure  and 
felt  a  considerable  degree  of  confidence  that  everything  in 
the  American  man's  court,  especially  when  connected  with 
this  writ,  depended  on  the  evidence. 

"  What  thinkest  thou  about  Quong  Lung's  getting  his 


A  CHINESE  GIBI,  127 

girls  ashore  ?  "  Ho  Lung  asked  Ah  Foon,  as  the  conver 
sation  lagged. 

"  I  hope  there  will  be  no  trouble,"  he  replied,  "  there 
are  several  ways  to  arrange  it.  If  a  good  man  should 
be  on  the  wharf  in  the  morning,  it  will  be  an  easy  matter ; 
if  not,  he  must  go  to  the  court  of  the  white  devil.  In 
these  courts  it  often  happens  that  the  wisest  cannot  hold 
his  own  with  the  most  ignorant,  but  we  must  meet  that 
state  of  things." 

Ah  Kee  suspended  judgment.  He  had  left  the  father 
land  but  a  short  time  before,  arriving  first  in  Canada,  and 
thence  by  slow  degrees,  to  San  Francisco. 

The  next  subject  that  came  under  discussion  was  the 
price  of  girls. 

"  Why  there  is  so  much  trouble  about  getting  our 
women  folk  here  is  a  mystery  to  me,"  said  Ho  Lung; 
"  the  last  wife  I  bought  cost  me  twelve  hundred  dollars,  and 
when  Quong  Lung  gets  his  little  beauty  ashore,  he  will 
probably  want'  as  much  as  two  thousand  for  her.  In 
China  one  can  get  all  the  girls  he  wants  for  one  or  two 
hundred  apiece.  It  is  this  outrageous  exclusion  law  that 
makes  it  so  hard  to  get  wives." 

To  the  surprise  of  the  elderly  men  a  dissenting  voice 
was  now  heard.  Hi  Su,  one  of  the  young  men,  arose  and 
said : — 

"  I  respect  the  ways  of  my  ancestors  and  I  love  the 
fatherland ;  but  I  believe  it  is  time  for  us  to  learn  to  obey 
the  laws  of  our  adopted  country.  I  think  the  buying  of 
slaves  to  be  a  sin.  I  obey  the  municipal  council  of  China 
town,  so  long  as  it  does  not  come  into  conflict  with  the 
laws  of  the  State, —  but  further  than  that  I  do  not  go." 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  Sam  Sing,  another  of  the  young  men, 
"  I  also  obey  the  laws  of  California,  and  I  send  my  daugh 
ters  to  school,  just  the  same  as  I  do  my  sons." 


128  AH  MOY 

v  \  These  sentiments  of  the  younger  men  were  regarded  by 
their  elders  as  proof  that  loyalty  to  the  fatherland  was 
fading  away,  and  that  the  habits  of  the  grimy  barbarian 
were  being  rooted  in  their  lives.  They  meditated  for  a 
while  on  what  seemed  to  them  the  retrogression  of  their  fel 
lows,  and  then  Ho  Lung  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  Can  love  of  home  be  like  the  love  of  a  child  for  a  but 
terfly?  Have  the  ages  written  their  story  of  soft  repose 
upon  the  Chinaman's  face  only  to  be  wiped  out,  as  foot 
steps  out  of  sand  by  an  incoming  tide?  Does  the  lifting 
up  of  hands  to  the  ancestral  shrine  mean  nothing  to  us 
because  we  are  away  from  home?  Young  Chinamen  who 
find  themselves  drifting  from  the  customs  of  their  fathers 
should  bow  their  heads  and  pay  reverence  to  the  nation 
that  has  lived  to  see  all  other  nations  take  their  places 
among  the  dead." 

For  some  moments  after  this  burst  of  eloquence,  a  deep 
silence  pervaded  the  room,  the  incense  lay  in  sheets  along 
the  wall  and  no  one  seemed  willing  to  speak ;  then  Ah 
Kee  arose  and  recounted  some  of  the  customs  of  the  father 
land. 

"  At  home,  the  old  father  and  mother  live  in  the  house 

and  all  the  sons  and  all  the  sons'  wives  take  care  of  them. 

Here  parents  and  grandparents  have  no  place;  they  are 

not  reverenced  by  their  daughters-in-law.     There  women 

are  modest,  and  do  not  wear  clothes  to  reveal  their  figures, 

while  here  the  women  deform  their  bodies  and  disqualify 

\     themselves  for  bearing  children.     There,  the  man  bearing 

\   a  heavy  burden  upon  his  back  is  given  the  right  of  way, 

Awhile  here  the  rich  hold  their  places  on  the  sidewalk.     No, 

no,  it  is  far  better  in  our  own  country ! " 

Silenced  by  this  high  morality,  the  whole  party  fell  to 
dreaming  of  home  and  friends  and  native  land. 

The  arrival  of  Quong  Lung  aroused  them  and  brought 


A  CHINESE  GIRL 

them  to  a  realization  of  the  duties  of  the  hour.     Blessed 
with  the  marvellous  capacity  of  his  race  to  adjust  itself  to    v/ 
all  the  conditions  of  life,  Quong  Lung  had  gone  imme 
diately  upon  arrival  to  a  barber  shop  and  had  his  head     c 
shaven,   his   queue   lengthened,   and  his  trousers  pressed. 
No   sign   told   of  the  storm  that   raged  within   him,   no 
shadow  lingered  in  his  black  eyes  to  proclaim  his  discom 
fort.     The  most  scrutinizing  could  only  see  the  pleasure  of 
a  man,  who  after  long  voyaging  had  arrived  in  port. 

When  the  sentinel  at  the  door  announced  him,  each  mem 
ber  of  the  party  arose  and  courteously  inquired  after  his 
welfare.  For  some  he  had  messages,  for  others  pack 
ages,  and  for  all  the  kindly  greetings  of  a  well-bred  man. 
No  attempt  was  made  by  him  to  introduce  the  subject 
nearest  to  his  heart,  or  to  arouse  sympathy.  A  delightful 
evening  was  spent,  and  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  the 
guests  took  their  departure. 

Ah  Foon,  the  "  peace-talker,"  however,  remained.  Left 
to  themselves,  the  two  men  waived  ceremony  and  began  in 
earnest  the  business  of  the  night. 

"  Be  seated,  noble  brother,"  said  Quong  Lung,  as  he 
drew  a  chair  to  the  table,  "  be  seated ;  it  is  good  to  feel  thee 
near.  All  is  well  with  thee,  I  hope." 

"  All  is  well,  thanks  to  Ten  Wang,"  replied  Ah  Foon. 

Thou  hast  heard  of  the  little  episode  at  the  ship,  as  I 
attempted  to  land  my  slaves  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  quoth  Ah  Foon,  "  I  have  heard  it  with  sorrow. 
The  Exclusion  Act  makes  it  difficult  for  us  to  gather  fam 
ilies  about  us  in  this  land  of  the  free." 

Yes,  the  law  of  the  white  man  is  directed  against  the 
Mongolian,  returned  Quong  Lung. 

"  I  fear  thou  art  correct,  most  noble  brother,"  assented 
Ah  Foon. 

"  The  business  in  which  I  am  engaged  has  the  sanction 


$ 
^ 


130  AH  MOY 

•-^pf  ^our_ownjieQf>le,  as  thou  knowest ;  but  the  Western  man 
Jifimpers  us  and  makes  it  necessary  that  we  meet  him  as 
best  we  can.  My  attorney  advises  me  that  the  landing  of 
the  girls  is  now  a  matter  of  testimony.  The  members  of 
the  Ho  Wang  Company  are  sworn,  as  thou  knowest,  to 
stand  together,  and  give  bold  counterstrokes  to  all  who 
persecute  them.  Here  is  sam-shu,  let  us  drink  to  the  con 
fusion  of  the  white  man's  laws." 

They  drank  and  drank  again,  and  pledged  eternal 
friendship.  Then  Quong  Lung  drew  a  gold  piece  from 
his  purse  and  offered  it  to  Ah  Foon,  saying :  — 

"  Bestow  it  upon  whosoever  thou  knowest  to  be  in  need, 
that  the  gods  may  see  that  we  have  no  evil  in  our  hearts." 

"  No,  no,  the  coin  I  will  not  accept,"  said  Ah  Foon, 
"  but  if  I  can  be  of  service  thou  knowest  I  shall  be  most 
willing." 

"  It  is  to  thee  that  I  look  for  assistance,"  said  Quong 
Lung. 

"  Has  your  attorney,  the  white  devil,  informed  you 
what  the  law  requires  you  to  prove?  "  questioned  Ah  Foon, 
as  he  proceeded  to  light  more  joss  sticks. 

"Yes,"  replied  Quong  Lung,"  we  must  conform  to  the 
language  of  the  Exclusion  Act,  which  requires  us  to 
prove  that  Ah  Moy  was  born  in  the  United  States.  My 
astute  counsel  says  there  will  be  no  trouble  about  landing 
the  half-breed." 

"  And  what  is  the  price  thou  wouldst  pay  for  this  tes 
timony  ?  " 

"  Such  as  is  commensurate  with  the  exigencies  of  the 
case.  Is  it  sufficient  if  I  return  to  thee  the  note  that  I 
hold  for  one  hundred  dollars  ?  " 

"  The  note  I  would  fain  pay  in  coin,"  said  Ah  Foon. 

"  Then  you  must  name  your  price,  and  not  be  too  hard 
on  a  man  who  is  in  trouble,"  said  Quong  Lung. 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  131 

"  It  is  a  serious  business,  and  I  would  not  mention  less 
than  two  hundred  dollars,"  answered  the  peace-talker. 

"  What  thou  wilt  do,  thou  wilt  do,"  and  they  filled  their 
pipes  and  drank  again  to  the  confusion  of  the  white  man's 
laws. 

It  was  near  daybreak  when  they  left  the  building  with 
a  mutual  understanding  to  meet  at  the  wharf  at  nine 
o'clock. 

At  the  mission  house  on  Jackson  street,  there  was  also 
night  work  on  hand.  Upon  leaving  the  ship,  Brother 
Jones  had  gone  straight  to  this  place  and  informed  the 
inmates  of  the  situation  at  the  wharf.  He  believed  the 
girls  to  be  slaves,  and,  with  a  well  intentioned  aggressive 
ness,  he  called  upon  his  co-workers  to  rescue  them.  As 
soon  as  he  described  Quong  Lung,  they  all  understood 
that  they  had  a  foe  worthy  of  their  steel.  Many  an  en 
counter  had  they  had  with  him,  and  many  a  time  had  he 
slipped  through  the  meshes  of  the  law.  Although  it  was 
long  past  office  hours,  they  sent  for  their  attorney  and 
made  such  preparations  as  they  could  to  rescue  the  girls. 

Brother  Jones  accepted  the  hospitality  of  the  house 
for  the  night,  and  as  the  clock  in  the  old  tower  was 
striking  two,  his  light  flickered  out. 


XIV 

NOT  until  the  passengers  had  all  left  the  ship  did  tho 
girls  begin  to  realize  their  situation.  For  a  time 
they  looked,  wonder-eyed,  into  the  desolation  about  them, 
and  then  they  went  back  to  the  second  cabin,  where  they 
had  spent  the  twenty-seven  days  of  the  voyage.  Even  the 
packages  that  had  filled  all  the  available  space  would  now 
have  been  a  welcome  sight,  but,  one  by  one,  they  had  all 
been  carried  away  until  the  only  familiar  object  was 
the  pile  of  Chinese  coffins  just  opposite  the  port-hole. 

"  I  wish  we  were  shut  up  in  one  of  them,"  said  Ah  Moy, 
"  then  we  would  be  sure  of  getting  back  to  lie  with  our  an 
cestors  in  the  family  burial-ground." 

"  Oh,  dear  no !  That  would  be  dreadful,"  exclaimed 
Wing.  They  talked  for  a  little  while,  and  then  too  much 
alarmed  for  serious  thought,  they  sat  down  in  gloomy 
silence  until  the  steward  brought  them  supper.  He 
laughed  and  joked  about  Quong  Lung's  mishap,  as  if  it 
were  an  everyday  occurrence  for  two  unhappy  girls  to  be 
left  alone  on  a  great  ship. 

"  Come  and  take  a  walk  on  deck,"  he  said,  when  they 
refuse  the  food  he  brought.  But  they  shook  their  heads, 
and  very  soon  went  frightened  to  bed. 

The  morning  dawned,  cold  and  windy,  and  the  fog-horn 
bellowed  its  warnings  to  the  children  of  the  sea. 

On  an  old  pile,  just  beyond  the  end  of  the  wharf,  sat 
a  large  sea-gull,  which  the  girls  thought  to  be  a  bird  of 
evil  omen. 

"  We  shall  be  thrown  overboard,"  said  Wing,  "  My 

122 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  133 

mother  always  said  that  when  a  bird  sits  still  and  utters 
its  solemn  croak,  it  means  that  someone  is  surely  going  to 
die." 

"  But  that  is  better  than  to  live  and  suffer  disgrace,"  in 
terjected  Ah  Moy. 

The  crew  staggered  back,  somewhat  the  worse  for  having 
spent  a  night  on  shore,  and  everything  on  the  ship  showed 
signs  of  disorder.  A  few  Chinamen  came  early  to  the 
wharf  to  select  boxes  and  bundles,  but  always  went  back 
before  the  girls  could  get  a  word  with  them. 

"  What  shall  we  do,"  said  Wing,  "  if  no  one  comes  for 
us?" 

"  Alas,  I  cannot  answer,"  returned  Ah  Moy. 

Before  them  was  a  bowl  of  rice  that  had  been  left  by 
the  steward,  and  opposite  to  it  there  was  a  paper  joss 
which  one  of  their  countrymen,  in  the  exuberance  of  his 
joy,  had  forgotten.  Ah  Moy  set  the  rice  before  the 
sacred  emblem,  as  though  it  might,  in  some  mysterious 
way,  appease  the  wrath  of  an  angry  god. 

Not  until  it  was  ten  o'clock  did  a  shaft  of  sunlight 
flash  through  the  port-hole  and  tell  the  girls  that  the  fog 
had  cleared  and  the  day  was  beautiful.  Just  then,  a 
Chinese  servant  came  in  to  gather  up  the  sheets  and  pillow 
cases,  and  Wing  mustered  up  courage  to  say :  — 

"  Tell  me,  oh,  tell  me,  what  those  people  will  do  with 
us!" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered  kindly,  "  I  think  Quong 
Lung  will  come  pretty  soon." 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking,  there  was  a  clatter 
of  footsteps  on  the  stairs  and  a  party  of  women  came 
down.  They  expressed  great  pleasure  at  finding  the  girls, 
and  sat  down  and  chatted  so  pleasantly  that  the  slaves 
felt  sure  something  was  to  be  done  in  their  behalf.  This 
hope  lightened  their  fears,  and  they  smiled  as  the  ladies 


u 


134  AH  MOY 


•>  u       made  reference  to  them.     Soon,  another  figure,  which  they 

both  rejoiced  to  see,  came  down  the  stairs.     It  was  no 

\      other  than  Dr.  Richardson.     Wing  sprang  into  her  arms 

A\  nestling  her  head  upon  her  bosom,  and  the  doctor  looked 

down  upon  her  as  a  mother  looks  upon  her  own. 

"  This  is  the  half-breed  girl  of  whom  you  have  heard," 
she  explained  to  her  associates. 

"  Yes,  doctor,"  said  Miss  Stevens,  who  was  matron  of 
the  missionary  home,  "  I  see  you  have  been  at  work  on 
your  voyage,  and  I  am  inclined  to  yield  the  palm  to 
you." 

__N  "  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  see  the  angel  that  is  im 
prisoned  in  this  block  of  stone,  and  I  would  be  the  instru 
ment  in  the  hands  of  God  for  liberating  it." 

"  But  we  who  have  been  longest  in  the  work,  and  can 
read  the  symptoms,  are  rather  doubtful,"  replied  Miss 
I  Itevens. 

"  We   make  sad  mistakes   about   symptoms,"   said  the 
<  loctor.     "  The  uneasy  longings  of  the  Eurasion,  as  a  class, 
i  nay  as  well  be  symptoms  of  genius,  or  of  mighty  love,  as 
'_,  ^ymptoms  of  evil.     I  fear  the  idea  of  our  own  superiority 
/is  a  thin  romance  upon  which  we  have  fed  until  it  has 
Warped  our  judgment." 

This  sharp  repartee  was  an  offense  to  Miss  Stevens,  who 
replied  :  — 

"  I  prefer  your  prescriptions,  doctor,  to  your  religious 
opinions." 

But  she  turned,  and,  looking  squarely  into  the  doctor's 
face,  asked  :  — 

"  What  can  you  do  for  the  girl  ?  " 

"  Why,"  explained  the  doctor,  "  first  save  her  from 
Quong  Lung,  and  then  save  her  from  herself.  The  half- 
breexLhas  the  vices  of  both  parents,  I  will  admit,  but 
they're  curable." 


\ 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  135 

"  As  a  class  they  are  hard  to  manage,"  said  the  matron, 
still  doubtfully,  "  we  have  them  occasionally  at  the  home, 
and  they  are  apt  to  make  trouble ;  the  other  girl  is  easily 
saved." 

"  The  other  one  is  already  saved,"  responded  the  doctor, 
rather  tartly ;  "  she  has  behind  her  ages  upon  ages  of 
virtuous  ancestors,  and  she  does  not  need  any  help  from! 
us.'?-- 

At  this  moment  the  steward  came  and  requested  them 
all  to  go  on  deck  and  meet  the  inspectors.  The  whole 
party  arose  and  tripped  lightly  up  the  stairs,  followed 
by  the  doctor,  who  still  held  Wing  fast  by  the  hand.  As 
they  walked  toward  the  gang-plank,  they  saw  a  number 
of  officials  in  close  conversation  with  Brother  Jones,  while 
a  little  apart  stood  Quong  Lung  and  the  peace-talker,  Ah 
Foon.  A  Chinese  interpreter  instructed  the  girls  to  hand 
over  their  passports  to  the  inspector ;  this  they  understood, 
and  without  hesitation  obeyed.  He  was  a  kindly,  well- 
fed  man,  this  official,  and  he  smiled  upon  the  girls  as  they, 
timidly  presented  their  papers. 

"  The  law  works  cruelty  upon  such  as  these,"  he  said, 
at  the  same  time  unfolding  the  transcript  of  the  Kwan 
Yin  record.  He  read  the  document  carefully,  and,  with 
a  perplexed  look,  handed  it  to  his  brother  inspector. 

"  It  is  certainly  unusual.  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
seen  anything  like  it.  It  may  be  all  right,  but  I  should 
not  be  willing  to  let  her  go  ashore  without  consulting 
someone  higher  in  authority  than  myself." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  the  first  inspector,  "  Quong  Lung  is  a 
shrewd  fellow,  and  we  might  be  misled  by  some  of  his 
tricks." 

They  then  unfolded  Ah  Moy's  passport. 

"  This  one  is  all  right,"  said  the  first  inspector,  "  I  re 
member  that  when  Quong  Lung  went  to  China,  he  took  a 


136  AH  MOY 

young  woman  with  him  and  this  is  probably  her  return 
passport." 

"  It  may  be  all  right,  but  I  think  we  ought  to  be  very 
careful.  We  have  made  a  number  of  mistakes  in  these 
matters,  and  I  do  not  like  to  take  the  responsibility." 

Then,  turning  to  Ah  Moy,  he  asked :  — 

"  Can  you  remember  where  you  were  born,  little  one?  " 

Ah  Moy  made  no  reply,  but  Quong  Lung  and  his  friend, 
Ah  Foon,  threw  themselves  into  the  breach  and  declared 
that  she  was  born  in  California.  Here  Brother  Jones  in 
terrupted 

"  It  cannot  be.  I  have  seen  too  many  Chinese  to  be 
lieve  a  word  of  it." 

Thus  the  two  forces  met  and  clashed,  and  the  inspectors, 
not  knowing  what  to  do,  very  wisely  decided  to  do  nothing. 

At  this  juncture  Dr.  Richardson  volunteered  to  look  for 
Wing's  father  and  promised  if  she  found  him  to  report  to 
the  main  office  on  Washington  street.  This  was  a  little 
light  upon  a  dark  subject,  and  finally  the  inspectors  gave 
both  girls  into  her  charge. 

It  was  now  near  noon,  and  as  there  seemed  to  be  no  way, 
out  of  the  dilemma,  the  doctor  decided  to  take  her  charges 
to  the  mission  home.  The  inspectors  accompanied  the 
little  party  to  the  street  and  placed  them  all  in  a  carriage. 

As  they  were  rapidly  whirled  away,  Ah  Moy  saw  Quong 
Lung  and  Ah  Foon  standing  in  close  conversation  at  the 
foot  of  the  wharf.  In  her  simple  little  heart  she  thought 
that  Ah  Foon  was  the  rich  merchant  who  was  waiting  to 
make  her  his  wife.  She  saw,  in  the  one  short  moment  as 
they  passed  him,  that  his  clothing  was  of  heavy  silk  and 
his  stockings  were  spotlessly  white,  and  she  remembered 
the  pang  she  had  felt  when  she  saw  Ting  Ho  march  past 
her  father's  gate,  to  be  no  more  seen  forever.  She  re 
membered,  too,  the  story  of  the  great  dragon  who  carries 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  137 

off  little  girls,  and  she  wondered  if  she  were  not,  even 
now,  going  to  the  cave  of  the  infant  ghosts  to  build  sand 
towers  to  be  blown  away  by  the  wind. 

But  although  great  waves  of  sorrow  swept  through  her 
heart,  she  sat  motionless,  waiting  to  obey  any  voice  which 
should  point  out  a  path  through  the  darkness  that  sur 
rounded  her,  while,  in  sharp  contrast,  sat  Wing  weeping 
and  clinging  to  Dr.  Richardson. 

It  was  but  a  few  moments'  drive  to  the  Home,  and  be 
fore  they  had  time  to  understand  what  was  going  on,  the 
heavy  doors  of  the  mission  closed  upon  them.  Although 
the  ladies  were  very  kind,  they  took  the  girls  to  a  secure 
room,  beyond  danger  of  ingress  or  egress,  for  they  had 
learned  by  experience  to  allow  no  opportunity  for  escape. 

An  assistant  helped  the  girls  to  wash  and  readjust  their 
clothing,  but  she  spoke  only  Cantonese  and  no  conversa 
tion  could  be  entered  upon.  She  treated  them  kindly, 
however,  and,  when  they  were  ready,  led  them  to  a  large 
room  where  there  were  many  Chinese  girls.  Not  one  of 
these  spoke  the  language  of  the  Honan  province,  but  the 
kindness  in  their  manner  and  the  happy  look  in  their 
faces  allayed  the  fears  of  the  slaves,  and  they  soon  began 
to  look  about  the  building. 

The  wonderful  conveniences  of  water  and  of  gas,  the  yV 
large  rooms,  the  strange  furnishings  and  the  spring  beds, 
appeared  to  them  marvels  of  luxury.  The  piano,  so  much 
larger  than  any  musical  instrument  they  had  ever  seen 
before,  astonished  them,  and  when  a  class  of  girls  lifted 
up  their  voices  and  sang,  they  laughed  quite  merrily. 

After  an  hour  or  so  in  the  parlor,  they  arose  and  sig 
nified  to  one  of  the  girls  that  they  would  like  to  return  to 
their  room,  so,  after  bowing  gracefully  three  times,  they 
withdrew.  When  they  were  alone,  Ah  Moy  said  to 
Wing :  — 


138  AH  MOY 

"  How  it  all  happens,  I  cannot  tell,  but  these  are  the 
very  same  kind  of  people  that  my  father  used  to  point  out 
to  me  when  we  rode  past  the  mission  on  the  Yang-tse- 
Kiang  river,  and  he  liked  them  not." 

"  But,"  said  Wing,  "  they  are  kind,  and  my  doctor  is 
good.  I  wonder  if  they  are  all  like  her?  " 

"  My  father  used  to  say  that  the  missionaries  are  all 
alike,"  Ah  Moy  answered  rather  dubiously. 

All  day  the  girls  tried  to  lift  the  veil  which  had  so  mys 
teriously  fallen  across  their  way.  They  talked  of  Quong 
Lung  and  his  friend,  of  the  long  sea  voyage,  and  the  fruit 
and  flowers  of  Hawaii,  and  as  the  moon  came  out  and  the 
roar  of  the  great  city  began  to  hush,  Ah  Moy  seemed  to 
hear  the  bells  of  the  old  Tien  Dong,  calling  the  saints  to 
prayer.  In  her  uncomplaining  grief  she  loosened  her 
long  black  hair,  and  with  soft  proud  eyes,  turned  her 
face  to  the  east. 

No  thought  had  she  of  blaming  anyone  for  the  sorrow 
that  had  come  upon  her;  no  thought  had  she  of  asking 
God  to  lighten  her  burden.  To  face  a  sea  of  troubles,  and 
to  act  rightly  her  part,  in  the  complex  relation  she  bore  to 
it,  and,  if  all  failed,  to  use  the  knife,  was  the  consumma 
tion  of  her  Oriental  training.  A  vague  swarm  of  spirits 
called  to  her  out  of  the  past,  counseling  her  to  acquit  her 
self  so  as  to  honor  her  family  name. 

Thus  the  night  and  another  day  wore  away,  and  early 
the  following  morning  a  Chinese  maid  came  to  the  door 
and  offered  to  assist  them  to  dress,  for  it  was  now  Sunday, 
and  all  must  be  prepared  for  the  morning  service.  They 
did  not  understand  very  clearly  what  was  wanted,  but 
the  maid  succeeded  in  dressing  them  neatly  and  in  taking 
them  down  in  time  for  breakfast. 

Miss  Stevens  knew  how  to  assuage  grief  in  human 
hearts,  and  she  allowed  the  girls  to  assist  in  the  work, 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  139 

especially  in  the  arrangement  of  the  flowers.  Before 
eleven  o'clock  there  came  a  number  of  Chinamen,  with 
hymn  books  in  their  hands,  who  gathered  around  the  piano 
to  practise  the  hymns  that  were  to  be  used  in  the  service, 
and  to  assist  in  arranging  the  chairs  and  other  details. 
The  leader  of  the  choir  was  a  very  pretty  young  lady,  who 
chatted  with  the  singers  and  seemed  very  fond  of  them. 
The  deadly  discords  they  made  and  the  Cantonese  they 
jabbered  between  the  hymns,  only  elicited  from  her  a  laugh, 
or  a  command  to  try  it  again.  No  objection  was  made 
to  joss  sticks,  or  Buddhas,  printed  upon  silk  handker 
chiefs. 

Precisely  at  eleven  o'clock  Brother  Jones  opened  the 
service  with  prayer.  After  thanking  the  Heavenly  Father 
for  their  safe  arrival  and  for  all  the  blessings  of  life,  he 
alluded  to  the  great  struggle  going  on  in  China  and  gave 
many  words  of  praise  to  the  misionaries  in  that  country. 
Then  he  closed  his  prayer  by  asking  the  gentle  Jesus  to 
visit  his  wrath  upon  the  slave-dealer.  A  dangerous  sense  "l 
of  humor  came  twinkling  into  the  eyes  of  the  Chinamen; 
but  they  suppressed  it,  and  kept  a  respectful  bearing 
toward  their  visitor. 

After  the  sermon  Miss  Stevens  very  adroitly  cut  short 
any  discussion  by  inviting  everyone  into  the  dining  room 
to  partake  of  a  cup  of  tea. 

"  The  work  here  has  taught  me,"  she  said  to  a  friend, 
"  that  it  is  hopeless  to  argue." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  lady,  who  had  herself  been  in  the 
service,  "  Chinamen  cannot  conceive  of  Jesus  as  a  God 
of  vengeance." 

Poor  Brother  Jones!  His  illusions  about  retribution 
clung  to  him  like  garments  long  worn.  With  a  mind"! 
biting  at  every  creed  except  his  own,  the  Chinese  seemed  \ 
to  him  like  so  many  insects,  and  he  winced  under  the  com- 


140  AH  MOY 

promises   that   he   saw   more   liberal   minded   missionaries 
making. 

The  two  girls  sat  through  the  to  them  strange  service 
without  evincing  a  shadow  of  surprise.  It  was  Ah  Moy's 
V  idea  of  a  well-bred  girl  to  "  keep  the  face,"  and  Wing^fol- 
lowed  her  example  with  exceeding  cunning.  Although 
they  felt  that  they  were  objects  of  comment,  they  man 
aged  to  appear  very  much  at  ease. 

A  number  of  women  called  during  the  afternoon  and 
asked  to  see  the  girls,  and  one  richly  attired  lady  offered 
to  adopt  them.  But  Miss  Stevens  informed  her  that,  for 
the  present  at  least,  they  had  no  jurisdiction  over  them. 

"  They  are  slaves,"  she  said,  "  and  sometimes  we  are 
obliged  to  leave  these  matters  to  the  courts." 

"  But  is  there  no  way  to  compel  the  courts  ?  "  asked  the 
lady. 

"  No,"  answered  Miss  Stevens,  "  unfortunately,  the 
courts  can  compel  us." 

So  passed  Sunday. 

Monday  and  Tuesday  brought  a  round  of  work,  in 
which  the  girls  joined,  and  before  the  end  of  the  week  they 
were  becoming  accustomed  to  their  surroundings. 

The  pale  faces  and  blue  eyes  had  no  more  terrors  for 
them,  and  although  they  could  not  understand  all  that 
went  on  about  them,  confidence  was  growing,  and  the  fact 
that  they  were  occupied  with  useful  duties  began  to  make 
them  feel  at  home.  When  they  were  entrusted  with  dainty 
work,  their  nimble  fingers  never  tired  until  it  was  finished 
and  a  smile  of  approbation  was  received. 

But  another  day  brought  a  surprise  for  all.  Not  only 
the  girls,  but  all  the  missionaries,  were  thrown  into  the 
greatest  possible  excitement  by  the  arrival  of  Dr.  Rich 
ardson,  who  came  to  inform  them  that  the  father  of  Wing 
had  recently  died  and  left  a  large  fortune.  It  was  al- 


A  CHINESE  GIRL,  141 

most  beyond  belief  when  the  doctor  intimated  that,  in  all 
probability,  Wing  was  more  than  a  millionaire,  "  for," 
she  said,  "  Ukiah  Grant  lost  his  wife  some  years  before 
his  own  death,  and  there  are  no  children  except  Wing  to 
inherit." 

When  Wing  saw  the  doctor,  she  flew  into  her  arms, 
although  she  was  not  able  to  comprehend  the  news.  Miss 
Stevens,  however,  grasped  the  situation  at  once. 

"  The  most  practical  thing  you  can  do  now,"  she  said, 
"  is  to  apply  to  the  court  for  letters  of  guardianship,  and 
if  successful,  try  your  theories  upon  your  protege.  But," 
she  added,  "  that  would  interfere  with  your  work  in 
China." 

"  My  work  in  China  is  finished,"  answered  the  doctor, 
"  I  have  seen  enough  to  convince  me  that  my  duty  is  to 
my  own  people.  I  hear  the  call  of  the  Aryan  race,  and 
it  is  a  call  of  distress.  I  hear  it,  and  I  should  be  less  than 
a  patriot  if  I  did  not  respond.  If  our  young  men  could 
be  taught  conscientious  regard  for  their  offspring,  whether 
it  be  legitimate  or  illegitimate,  we  should  not  see  our  na 
tional  vices  transplanted  upon  the  shores  of  Asia  to  fester 
there  until  our  noble  West  becomes  a  byword  among  the 
people.  Abstemiousness  and  control  over  the  appetites  is 
what  our  people  need  to  learn." 

"  Let  us  pray  for  your  success,"  said  Miss  Stevens, 
"  there  is  work  enough  to  do  right  here  in  San  Francisco. 
But  you  know  the  difficulties,  do  you  not?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  there  are  difficulties.  But  I  see  beyond 
them.  If  my  services  are  of  any  value  to  mankind,  it 
must  be  along  the  line  of  teaching  young  people  the  mean 
ing  of  that  great  symbol,  the  serpent,*  as  it  is  taught  to 
the  children  of  Asia." 

*  Sex   wisdom. 


AH  MOY 

Again  Miss  Stevens  said,  doubtingly,  "  Let  us  pray  for 
success.  But  what  is  your  plan  about  Wing?  " 

"  Just  what  you  outlined,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  I  in 
tend  to  apply  to  the  courts  for  letters  of  guardianship, 
and,  if  successful,  to  educate  her  as  a  medical  missionary. 
It  is  the  noblest  of  work,  and  it  would  be  poetic  justice, 
would  it  not,  to  see  the  abandoned  child  of  lust  turn  upon 
the  vice  that  is  gnawing  at  her  throat  and  help  to  stamp 
it  out." 

"  Good  has  come  out  of  Nazareth,"  said  Miss  Stevens ; 
"  perhaps  it  will  again." 

Dr.  Richardson  had  now  fully  determined  on  her  course. 
She  took  her  departure,  but  next  morning  was  early  at 
the  home  with  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  and  the  never-to-be- 
forgotten  umbrella  of  the  Chinese  woman.  As  soon  as 
Wing  was  suitably  dressed,  she  took  her  to  the  Probate 
Court  and  had  her  name  entered  as  the  daughter  of  Ukiah 
Grant. 

There  was  much  surprise  and  protest  by  those  who 
claimed  to  be  heirs  of  the  deceased;  but  Quong  Lung  had 
done  his  work  too  well  to  admit  of  a  doubt.  The  trans- 
script,  signed,  sealed  and  delivered  by  Woo  Chow,  in  his 
official  capacity  as  recorder  of  Kwan  Yin  temple,  was 
easily  verified  by  the  Chinese  minister  plenipotentiary  and 
the  judge,  who  was  glad  enough  to  see  a  way  out  of  the 
wrangle,  that  distant  relatives  had  begun  over  the  estate, 
recognized  Wing  as  the  daughter  of  the  dead  millionaire. 


XV 

AH  MOY  now  settled  down  to  her  new  life,  and  was 
helping  the  girls  with  the  sweeping  and  dusting, 
while  a  few  words  of  English  were  creeping  into  her  vo 
cabulary.  Miss  Stevens  had  almost  concluded  that  Quong 
Lung  had  given  up  the  fight,  when  one  morning,  just  as 
she  was  marshalling  the  week's  work  into  order,  the  bell 
was  rung  by  a  pompous-looking  official. 

Out  of  his  side  pocket  projected  a  package  of  legal 
documents,  which  he  instinctively  grasped  as  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  demure  little  Chinese  girl. 

"  Can  I  see  the  person  in  authority  here  ?  "  he  asked, 
at  the  same  time  setting  one  foot  firmly  over  the  threshold. 

"  Do  you  mean  Miss  Wilkins,  or  the  matron?  "  timidly 
asked  the  girl. 

"  I  mean  the  person  in  authority,"  replied  the  official  in 
such  a  tone  that  Sin  Soy's  almond-shaped  eyes  instinctively 
turned  toward  her  nose. 

"  Then  you  may  be  seated,  sir,  and  I  will  look  for  the 
matron." 

The  official  took  the  chair  nearest  the  door,  and  Sin  Soy 
fled  through  the  hall  toward  the  part  of  the  house  where 
she  thought  Miss  Stevens  most  likely  to  be  found. 

"  He  looks  like  a  policeman,"  she  cried  as  she  rushed 
into  the  dining-room ;  "  he  looks  like  a  policeman  and  he 
wants  to  see  you." 

Miss  Stevens  threw  off  the  long  white  apron  she  was 
wearing,  ran  one  hand  hurriedly  over  her  hair,  and  pro- 

143 


144  AH  MOT 

ceeded  to  the  hall.  She  was  not  altogether  surprised  when 
her  visitor  served  her  with  an  order  of  court. 

"  Have  you  in  charge  a  Chinese  girl,  lately  arrived, 
whom  they  call  Ah  Moy  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  matron,  slightly  flushing.  At 
this  the  officer  handed  her  a  copy  of  a  writ  of  habeas  cor 
pus  and  said :  — 

"  Then  you  must  bring  her  into  court  that  the  judge 
may  decide  to  whom  she  shall  be  given.  She  is  claimed 
by  Quong  Lung  as  his  daughter,  is  she  not?  " 

"  I  presume  she  is,"  replied  Miss  Stevens,  "  but  is  there 
no  escape  from  this  proceeding?  My  duties  are  pressing 
and  the  uncertainty  of  justice  makes  it — " 

"  These  are  questions  for  the  court  to  decide,"  inter 
rupted  the  officer,  "  the  order  is  mandatory,  and  must  be 
obeyed." 

Saying  this,  he  tipped  his  hat  and  descended  the  steps 
into  the  street. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Miss  Stevens  gathered  her  little 
band  of  assistants  together  and  after  a  short  conference 
they  decided  that  there  was  no  way  to  escape  the  ordeal  of 
going  into  court. 

"  We  must  trust  the  good  Father,"  said  Miss  Wilkins. 

"  And  our  lawyer,"  dryly  remarked  Miss  Jones. 

"  If  we  could  only  send  her  away,"  lamented  Miss 
Stevens,  "  we  have  so  many  friends  in  Los  Angeles  who 
would  have  taken  her;  but  we  should  have  done  it  sooner. 
Now  that  the  papers  are  served,  I  fear  it  is  too  late." 

Miss  Jordan,  another  missionary,  now  suggested  that 
they  send  for  Brother  Jones. 

"  None  of  us  have  any  testimony  to  give  in  the  case," 
she  said,  "  at  least  no  such  testimony  as  the  court  re 
quires.  To  be  sure,  we  know  but  to  make  the  court  know 
how  we  know  is  quite  another  thing." 


A  CHINESE  GIRL  145 

In  the  midst  of  the  discussion,  Brother  Jones  cames  in. 
He  had  heard  of  the  trouble  and  knew  that  he  should  be 
an  important  witness.  But  when  he  thought  the  matter 
over  seriously,  he  saw  that  he  could  only  swear  that  Quong 
Lung  looked  Cantonese,  while  Ah  Moy  looked  every  inch 
northern  born.  Some  of  the  missionaries  believed  in  the 
"  blessed  lie,"  but  now  that  the  time  was  ripe  to  put  this 
into  practice,  it  seemed  very  difficult  to  do,  for  Quong 
Lung's  attorney  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  very 
best  in  the  city,  and  they  knew  he  would  pour  such  a  flood 
of  questions  upon  the  witnesses  in  cross-examination  that 
the  truth  would  be  their  only  protection. 

The  fact  that  they  could  not  speak  understandingly  with 
Ah  Moy  made  the  situation  still  more  difficult,  and,  taking 
it,  all  in  all  there  seemed  to  be  no  silver  lining  to  the 
cloud. 

The  case  was  set  for  hearing  the  following  morning  at 
ten  o'clock,  and  Miss  Stevens  prepared  to  be  at  the  court 
house  in  time. 

A  Chinese  inmate  of  the  home  arranged  Ah  Moy's  hair 
and  dress  in  a  way  suitable  for  the  occasion  and  other  in 
mates  loaned  such  articles  of  adornment  as  are  dear  to 
the  heart  of  girlhood.  Ah  Moy  submitted  with  calm 
reserve,  but  in  her  heart  was  deep  sorrow  lest  she  should 
never  again  see  Quong  Lung  and  the  rich  merchant  whom 
she  felt  sure  was  waiting  to  make  her  his  wife.  All  the 
distance  between  China  and  San  Francisco  was  not  so  fatal 
to  her  happiness  as  the  one  wall  between  the  mission  home 
and  Chinatown. 

The  missionaries  understood  what  was .  in  the  heart  of 
their  charge  and  so  took  a  closed  carriage,  guarding  her 
on  both  sides,  as  they  rattled  over  the  cobblestone  streets 
to  the  great  building  where  law  —  and  sometimes  justice 
—  is  administered.  The  judge  was  disposing  of  another 


146  AH  MOY 

case  when  Miss  Stevens  and  Miss  Wilkins,  one  on  either  side 
of  the  Chinese  girl,  entered.  The  marshal  saw  them  and 
conducted  them  to  seats  inside  the  rail. 

Very  soon  Quong  Lung  and  his  friend,  Ah  Foon,  en 
tered  the  room  and  were  about  to  take  seats  near  the  mis 
sionaries  ;  but  the  marshal  motioned  the  Chinamen  back, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  remain  at  a  respectful  distance. 
The  court  room  was  filled  with  a  throng,  made  up  of  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  but  to  all  appearances,  the 
stately  judge  was  oblivious  to  everything  except  the  doings 
of  a  little  circle  of  lawyers  before  him,  who  were  review 
ing  the  testimony  in  a  murder  case  which  had  just  been 
tried.  An  attorney,  whom  his  brethren  at  the  bar  affec 
tionately  addressed  as  "  General,"  called  the  attention  of 
the  court  to  the  perverseness  of  the  witnesses  for  the  prose 
cution,  and,  according  to  his  version,  all  who  had  testified 
against  his  client  had  done  so  from  pure  malice. 

The  case  lumbered  along  for  an  hour,  when,  suddenly, 
there  was  a  shuffling  of  feet,  a  movement  of  the  crowd  to 
ward  the  door,  and  the  case  of  Quong  Lung  vs.  The  Occi 
dental  Board  of  Missionaries,  was  called.  Both  attor 
neys  were  ready  and  Quong  Lung,  being  the  first  witness, 
took  the  stand. 

"  He  testified  clearly  and  pointedly  that  Ah  Moy  was 
his  daughter,  twenty  years  old,  and  born  in  California. 
Upon  cross-examination,  he  kept  his  story  straight,  and 
told  it  convincingly. 

"  I  came  to  California  in  1872,"  he  said,  in  response 
to  the  inquiry  of  the  attorney  for  the  missionaries. 

"  How  many  wives  did  you  bring  with  you  ?  "  asked  the 
lawyer  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  caught  the  witness 
in  a  lie. 

"  Three  wives  —  all  the  time  large  family  —  all  the 
time  plenty  of  trouble  with  the  missionaries." 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  147 

"  That's  all,"  replied  the  lawyer,  "  we  do  not  want  to 
hear  anything  about  your  troubles." 

Then  Ah  Foon  was  sworn  and  testified  that  he  had 
known  Ah  Moy  from  babyhood,  and  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  Quong  Lung,  born  in  California,  and  twenty 
years  old. 

A  look  of  satisfaction  beamed  on  the  face  of  Quong 
Lung's  attorney,  as  he  turned  the  witness  over  to  Mr. 
Brown  for  cross-examination,  for  he  knew  by  long  ex 
perience  how  hopeless  would  be  any  attempt  of  the  defend 
ant  to  go  very  far  into  the  family  life  of  Quong  Lung. 

"  No  questions,"  said  the  lawyer,  seeing  how  difficult  his 
case  was  getting.  At  this,  with  a  business-like  air,  the 
attorney  for  the  plaintiff  handed  the  judge  what  pur 
ported  to  be  the  passport  of  Ah  Moy.  The  judge  read 
the  paper  over  very  carefully  and  said,  "  It  seems  to  be 
in  conformity  with  the  law.  Let  us  hear  the  witnesses  for 
the  defense." 

Brother  Jones  now  stepped  forward,  but  something  in 
his  manner  seemed  to  be  asking  for  lenity.  He  swore 
that  he  was  a  passenger  on  the  "  Hong  Kong  Maru,"  and 
that  he  had  only  known  Ah  Moy  for  the  short  period  of 
twenty-seven  days.  He  thought  she  was  a  slave,  because 
she  appeared  to  be  northern  bred,  while,  according  to  his 
judgment,  Quong  Lung  was  Cantonese. 

"  It  was  common  talk  on  the  ship  that  Quong  Lung 
was  a  slave-dealer,"  he  said. 

"  Objected  to,"  said  the  attorney  for  Quong  Lung,  "  as 
incompetent,  immaterial  and  irrelevant." 

"  Objection  sustained,"  ruled  the  judge;  "  tell  what  you 
know  of  your  own  personal  knowledge." 

Then  Brother  Jones  had  to  admit  that  of  his  own  per 
sonal  knowledge,  he  knew  nothing.  Neither  could  Miss 
Stevens  or  Miss  Wilkins  say  anything  to  help  the  case. 


148  AH  MOT 

They  requested  that  Ah  Moy  be  put  on  the  stand  to  tes 
tify  through  an  interpreter;  but  the  judge  objected  on 
the  ground  of  her  having  no  knowledge  of  the  solemnity  of 
an  oath.  And  after  a  little  further  inquiry  he  took  her 
to  his  chambers  and  there  tried  to  elicit  something  from 
her  to  guide  him  in  his  decision.  Owing  to  the  fact,  how 
ever,  that  his  conscience  had  been  reduced,  by  a  purely 
legal  process,  to  a  tacit  desire  to  fulfill  the  letter  of  the 
law,  nothing  but  such  considerations  came  to  his  mind. 

As  far  as  anything  could  be  wrung  from  Ah  Moy,  the 
facts  were  just  as  Quong  Lung  had  declared  them  to  be. 
The  sight  of  the  foreigners  did  not  frighten  her,  as  it  had 
done  at  first,  and  she  could  now  remember  the  words, 
"  born  in  California."  These  she  repeated,  parrot-like, 
and  then  became  a  perfect  blank.  No  smile  or  frown  could 
wring  from  her  another  word.  The  repose  of  her  bearing 
and  her  persistent  refusal  to  talk,  confirmed  the  judge  in 
his  opinion  that  everything  was  as  it  should  be,  and  he 
decided  to  let  her  go  with  whomsoever  she  pleased. 

"  I  see  nothing  in  the  case  to  warrant  suspicion,"  he 
said. 

But  the  missionaries,  the  people  standing  about  the 
room,  and  pvy^  ||ig  janitor  1  knew  that  another  slave-girl 
had  been  added  to  those  already  in  Chinatown. 


& 

rt't   v^Tg? 
Vv7     .>    -2£ 


\Ji 


XVI 

AS  soon  as  the  judge  had  rendered  his  decision,  Quong 
Lung  made  a  bold  advance  towards  Ah  Moy,  and 
Ah  Foon  followed  him. 

"  Come  to  me,"  said  Quong  Lung,  with  determination 
in  his  voice,  and  Ah  Moy  made  not  the  slightest  attempt 
to  disobey.  He  took  her  hand  and  led  her  out  of  the 
court  room,  while  Ah  Foon  took  his  place  as  rear-guard. 

"  It  is  uncertain  business,"  said  Quong  Long,  when 
they  were  safely  outside  the  door. 

"  Yes,"  asserted  Ah  Foon,  "  but  what  they  will  do  — 
they  will  do  —  these  fierce  Americans.  To  run  the  gaunt 
let  of  the  court  and  succeed,  is  surely  better  than  to  run 
and  lose." 

Quong  Lung  smiled  a  sickly  smile.  The  iron  that 
entered  his  soul  was  the  loss  of  money  that  he  had  sus 
tained,  first  in  Wing's  escape,  and  second,  in  the  heavy  fees 
that  he  knew  would  be  wrung  from  him  by  his  lawyer. 
He  made  the  best  of  the  situation,  however,  and  when  a 
hackman  approached  and  asked  if  he  desired  a  carriage, 
he  replied  by  lifting  Ah  Moy  upon  the  back  seat,  while 
he  as  unceremoniously  flung  himself  on  the  seat  facing 
her.  When  he  had  instructed  the  driver  where  to  go,  he 
lowered  the  curtains  and  sat  sullenly  until  they  reached 
Chinatown. 

There  he  dismissed  the  hackman,  and  led  Ah  Moy 
through  a  narrow  street  and  up  a  flight  of  stairs  to  a 
room  known  as  the  old  "  slave-hall."  A  Chinese  woman 
received  her  and  took  her  to  a  smaller  room,  where  on 

149 


150  AH  MOT 

wooden  boxes,  were  arranged  all  the  paraphernalia  of 
female  adornment,  and  immediately  she  began  rearranging 
her  hair  and  dress.  She  was  not  cross,  this  old  woman, 
as  Ah  Moy  remembered  Wang  to  have  been ;  but  she  knew 
her  business,  and  did  it  in  a  most  unceremonious  manner. 
Very  soon,  Ah  Moy  looked  her  best,  according  to  the 
Oriental  idea,  and  she  was  then  led  back  to  the  hall. 

It  was  not  long  before  Quong  Lung  returned,  accom 
panied  by  a  number  of  Chinamen,  who  were  anxious  to 
purchase  wives.  Ah  Moy  suited  the  most  fastidious  of 
them;  but  her  owner  held  her  at  a  very  high  price.  For 
this  reason,  several  days  passed,  and  no  sale  was  effected. 

Meanwhile  the  newspapers  were  exploiting  some  of  the 
facts  about  the  case  and  the  judge's  decision,  and  this 
aroused  the  fears  of  Quong  Lung  that  other  legal  pro 
cedure  might  be  instituted.  He  therefore  removed  Ah 
Moy  to  another  house  in  Chinatown  —  a  place  which  sees 
—  but  tells  no  tales.  Through  dark  passages  and  dingy 
halls,  he  led  the  poor  girl  to  an  upstairs  room,  no  larger 
than  a  cell,  and  there  locked  the  door  upon  her. 

Through  the  iron  bars  she  could  see  other  rooms  like 
her  own,  all  opening  into  a  hallway,  which  was  lighted 
only  by  windows  overhead.  In  each  of  these  rooms  were 
young  women,  with  painted  faces  and  embroidered  cloth 
ing;  but  as  Ah  Moy  heard  them  speaking  only  Cantonese, 
she  could  not  enter  into  conversation.  From  below, 
throbbing  up  through  the  floor,  came  the  squeaky  tones  of 
a  sam  sin,  the  rattle  of  dice,  and  the  odor  of  opium  smoke. 

Intuition,  which  teaches  the  young  and  the  pure,  told 
Ah  Moy  that  she  was  now  in  a  dangerous  place.  She 
looked  about  to  see  if,  perchance,  she  might  find  a  way  of 
escape,  but  no  passage  was  visible  in  any  direction.  As 
she  sat,  undecided  what  to  do,  she  heard  a  voice  in  one  of 
the  cells  near  her,  crooning  a  child's  song  that  she  had 


A  CHINESE  GIKL  151 

often  heard  at  home.  Although  she  could  not  see  the  per 
son  who  was  singing,  she  spoke  and  asked  if  there  were 
no  way  bj  which  she  might  leave  the  place. 

"  No,  ah,  no,"  was  the  sad  reply.  "  We  are  the  slaves 
of  Quong  Lung,  and  the  only  possible  way  of  getting  help 
is  to  find  someone  who  will  carry  a  message  to  the  mis 
sionaries.  But  this  is  hard  to  do,  for  no  one  comes  here 
unless  he  is  sworn  to  secrecy." 

"Oh,"  said  Ah  Moy,  "how  dreadful!  I  have  just 
come  from  the  missionaries,  and  now  how  glad  I  should 
be  to  go  back  to  them." 

"  They  are  kind  people  and  would  help  us  if  they 
could,"  answered  the  voice,  "  but  I  have  tried  many  times 
to  get  a  message  to  them  but  have  never  succeeded." 

This  was  discouraging  news  to  little  Ah  Moy.  She 
sat  down  almost  in  despair  and  thought  over  the  situation. 
She  drew  from  her  sleeve  the  knife  that  her  father  had 
given  her,  and  fondled  it  almost  as  though  it  were  a  living 
thing.  Until  far  into  the  night  she  waited  uncomplain 
ingly,  and  then,  overcome  by  fatigue  and  anxiety,  she 
lay  down  upon  the  bed  and  dropped  into  a  troubled  sleep. 
At  daybreak,  she  was  again  listening  for  the  footsteps 
of  Quong  Lung,  whom  she  hoped  would  come  and  bring 
her  some  sort  of  relief.  It  was  nearly  noon  when  she 
heard  the  key  grate  in  her  door  and  he  entered,  bringing 
food  and  some  articles  of  adornment,  which  he  commanded 
her  to  wear.  He  then  left  her  without  a  word,  and  she 
sat  down  alone  to  her  scanty  meal. 

When  she  had  eaten,  she  combed  her  long  black  hair, 
and  again  waited  calmly  to  see  what  the  gods  might  have 
in  store  for  her.  Toward  night  the  outer  door  was  sud-  . 
denly  thrown  open  and  a  crowd  of  men  pushed  in, 
scrambling  for  standing  room  before  the  cells  of  the 
prettiest  girls.  Many  of  their  visitors  were  stupid  with 


152  AH  MOY 

opium,  and  insolent  in  their  language.  Often  did  Ah  Moy 
feel  the  blood  tingle  in  her  veins  and  the  fire  flash  in  her 
eyes.  One  young  Chinaman  stopped  before  a  cell  near 
her  and  remarked  upon  the  beauty  of  its  occupant  and 
the  fineness  of  the  jewelry  she  wore.  Jests  about  feet 
and  eyebrows  brought  laughter  from  some,  when  sud 
denly  a  bold  hand  pointed  to  Ah  Moy  and  its  owner  said: 

"  This  one  has  only  been  over  a  short  time ;  they  say 
she  is  of  noble  birth." 

"  Ah,  ha,"  said  another,  "  then  she  is  the  little  girl  that 
Quong  Lung  has  had  so  much  trouble  about." 

"  Yes,"  quoth  his  companion,  "  she  is  still  grieving  for 
her  parents,  and  it  adds  much  to  her  beauty." 

Ah  Moy  heard  and  was  now  fully  conscious  of  her  posi 
tion. 

She  felt  that  at  any  moment  some  one  of  that  lustful 
throng  might  present  himself  within  her  door  and  claim 
her  trembling  body.  She  fled  to  the  farthermost  corner 
of  her  cell  and,  like  a  bird  caught  in  a  trap,  turned  her 
face  to  the  wall.  The  bell  in  the  old  church  tower  was 
striking  twelve  when  she  heard  the  door  behind  her  open, 
and,  looking  around,  she  saw  a  portly  Chinaman.  He 
bore  wine  and  sweets  and  with  honeyed  words  tried  to  per 
suade  her  to  eat.  Ah  Moy  was  now  too  desperate  to  hear. 
There  was  roaring  in  her  ears,  and  darkness  in  her  eyes, 
and  she  could  remember  nothing  but  the  story  of  the  old 
Dragon  who  devours  young  girls.  She  clutched  at  the 
wall  in  an  effort  to  escape,  but  when  she  felt  the  man's 
hand  upon  her,  she  turned  upon  him  with  the  fury  of  a 
wildcat  and  struck  him  with  the  knife,  inflicting  such  a 
gash  on  his  face  that  he  staggered  through  the  door  and 
disappeared. 

It  was  now  near  morning.  The  fog  fell  in  cold,  damp 
sheets  through  the  grating  of  her  cell.  The  hall  was 


A  CHINESE  GIEL  153 

deserted,  save  for  a  few  opium-eaters  who  slumbered  in  a 
corner,  and  the  only  noise  on  the  street  was  the  rattle  of 
early  wagons.  In  grief,  Ah  Moy  threw  herself  upon  the 
bed  and  tried  to  gather  her  distracted  thoughts  into  some 
thing  like  order.  She  prayed  to  the  god  of  her  fathers, 
and  she  droned  a  chant  that  the  priests  had  taught  her 
many  years  before.  This,  however,  was  the  crucial  test 
which  brought  her  into  a  new  state  of  consciousness. 
When  she  arose,  a  spiritual  illumination  shone  in  her  face 
and  shimmered  like  a  halo  about  her  body.  In  her  heart 
there  was  no  more  fear,  for  she  was  able  to  trust  herself 
entirely  to  the  gods.  In  imagination  she  heard  the  gentle 
voices  of  her  ancestors  counselling  her  to  be  brave  and  fear 
not.  She  remembered  a  little  poem,  written  by  Hau  Hsi 
two  hundred  years  before  Christ,  and  repeated  it  to  her 
self. 

"Forth  from  the  Eastern  gate  my  steed  I  drive, 

And,  lo,  a  cemetery  meets  my  view. 
Aspens  around  in  wild  luxuriance  thrive, 

The  path  is  fringed  with  fir,  and  pine,   and  yew. 

"  How  fast  the  lights  and  shadows  change  to  gray, 

How  like  a  summer's  day  my  life  has  fled;  ,y\* 

How  a  frail  life  is  snuffed  away, 

To  sleep  in  silence  with  its  coffined  dead." 

More  than  ever  the  ivory-handled  knife  seemed  a  con 
necting  link  between  herself  and  her  parents.  Her  father 
had  treasured  it  and  had  put  it  into  her  hand  as  a  sacred 
gift,  and  now  strangely,  oh,  so  strangely,  it  had  come  to 
be  the  only  thing  she  had  with  which  to  cut  herself  loose 
from  the  intricate  web  of  a  distracted  life. 

One  loving  little  letter  she  scribbled  to  her  father,  tell- 


154* 


AH  MOT 


ing  him  that  she  was  going  like  the  daughter  of  a  noble 
man  to  join  the  army  of  her  ancestors,  "  and  father  dear," 
she  wrote,  "  the  gods  have  been  good  to  me,  for  I  have 
escaped  the  worst  of  all  evils  —  that  of  disgracing  my 
v^  parents."  Then  in  noble  self-forgetfulness,  she  added: 
"  And  father,  you  must  think  better  of  the  missionaries ; 
they  tried  to  take  care  of  me,  but  I  could  not  understand." 
The  soul  of  the  Far  East  was  in  every  word.  That 
splendid  scorn  of  death,  which  is  the  result  of  training, 
reaching  far  back  into  the  remotest  night  of  forgotten 
time,  made  her  brave  and  lifted  her  out  of  the  dark 
waters  that  threatened  to  engulf  her.  To  her  the  Oriental 
suicide  was  now  a  duty  and  a  sacrament.  She  knew  that 
the  highest  honor  ever  paid  to  women  in  her  beloved 
Cathay  was  paid  to  those  who  successfully  protected  them- 
selves  from  dishonor.  She  folded  the  sheet  of  white  paper 
that  lay  upon  her  table  into  the  form  of  a  lotus  flower, 
and  then,  with  steady  precision,  made  a  gash  in  her  throat 
from  which  the  blood  leaped  in  throbbing  jets. 

At  ten  o'clock  they  found  her  body  cold  and  stiff.  The 
letter  to  her  father  folded  neatly  on  the  table,  and  the 
knife  still  in  her  hand. 


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